Shadow of Fate
by Angel's Fallen Knight
Summary: What would you do if you could go back and change your own fate? Rachel/Finn. Quinn/Sam. Eventual Faberry.
1. Prologue

So, this story was actually available via the Rachel_Quinn community but some people asked if I could put it on fanfiction also. So here it is, I'll be uploading all the chapters at once, so you don't have to wait for them. If you want to check out my LJ it's **a-fallenknight . livejournal . com** and my tumblr for updates is **angelsfallenknight . tumblr . com** without all the spaces obviously lol.

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><p>"But S, you were suppose to be my ride home, you know my mom is using my car until hers is fixed."<p>

"Sorry Q, but Brittany wants me to go to hers and you know how rare an occurrence that is nowadays now that Wheels is on her case."

"Well can't you take me to mine and then go to B's?"

"You live on the opposite side of town. Do you have money for gas?"

"You know I don't."

"Then don't complain. Walk home, it's such a gorgeous day out!"

"Your sarcasm does nothing for me."

"Deal with it, Q. I'll see you tomorrow."

Quinn Fabray was left fuming as her second in charge turned on her heel, flipping her car keys tantalizingly as she left McKinley High for the day. Of course, she should have known that Santana Lopez would never keep her promise; and where Brittany Pierce was concerned she shouldn't have been surprised. It's not that she didn't mind the walk home; but she was exhausted – Coach Sylvester was working them harder than ever before, that seven consecutive Nationals win so close to her grasp, she wasn't going to let her Cheerio's slack.

Her body ached in places she never knew existed, and carrying her heavy gym bag on her shoulder just made the ache in her neck and shoulders worse. So grumbling to herself, silently contemplating how to make Santana Lopez's life hell, she left school for home.

It was a twenty minute walk, tops, but even that seemed like hours. The sun was already beginning to set, and even though she was seventeen years old, the thought of walking in the dark in Lima wasn't a particularly good one. Lima was full of shifty characters, and Quinn had learnt from an early age to stay far away from those sorts of people. And the fact she was wearing her cheerleading uniform made her self-conscious, pulling down skirt to try and at least cover her thighs, which was altogether futile – Coach Sylvester had made it her mission to make the Cheerio's look as tempting as possible, especially with the news of a 3 out of 4 male judging board at Nationals.

The chill of the early evening began to prick at her skin, and self-consciously she wrapped her arms around herself, "I can't believe I forgot my jacket." She muttered angrily to herself, biting back a shudder as a particularly strong wind shot past her.

She stopped as she came to the end of the main road, looking across the road to where it continued on, but then to her right, where a familiar shortcut stood tantalizingly close. It was darkly lit, but it was a guaranteed route to get her home quicker. Weighing up the pros and cons, the shortcut won - the urge to get warm winning out above personal safety.

She clutched her gym bag closer to her, clutching at the strap with both hands as she walked down the small alley. The sound of her Nike's slamming down on the pavement echoed above all else, and it made her panic. It was too quiet – it wasn't that late at night; where were the usual people that passed by this well known route?

Her iPod. She pulled it from her bag and quickly pushed the buds into her ears, turning on the familiar sounds of Broken Iris to calm her nerves. She sang along to the words of Colourful Mind as she continued down the alley, her nerves well and truly sated. Chucking to herself, she realized what a moron she'd made of herself. It wasn't even that dark to be honest, and it wasn't like there was someone around the corner waiting to kidnap her.

She rounded the corner and smiled, seeing the familiar turn off to her street. Almost home.

_**Will this be another day of night in here?**_

_**The knife's not sharp enough to fear.**_

_**If I ever see you in white,**_

_**Try to stay.**_

_**The room's not light for a gray.**_

Before she could even contemplate what was happening, a sharp pain radiated through her lower back and spread like wildfire throughout her whole body. Then a twinge, a sharp twinge that turned into a dull throb, painful and everlasting as she collapsed to the floor in a heap.

Her bag lay beside her, the usual white and red WMHS completely red, and as she raised her hand, hoping, trying, praying that she could reach her phone, she heard footsteps thundering away from her.

Vision becoming fuzzy, she felt her eyes droop – the urge to slip into sleep becoming too much to push away. Her stomach felt warm, and as she pressed her cheek into the cold stone of the pavement, she saw the red of her blood spread across the usually pale stone.

Her body ached, and her lungs burned with every breath she took, and with a heavy heave of her lungs, she expelled the last bit of precious air she'd managed to breathe in, and so with it, so did her life.

"**You know, I expected you to put up a little bit more of a fight."**

Quinn Fabray's eyes snapped open, and the ache that she'd remembered from before seemed to have completely disappeared. She sat up from her place on the floor and ran her hands over her stomach and back, the stickiness of blood was no longer there, and neither was the knife wound that had ended her life.

It had ended it...hadn't it?

"**I suppose you would have heard your assailants footsteps if you hadn't had your earphones in, but then again, when should you expect to be stabbed to death as you walk home...?"**

The voice echoed eerily throughout the room – which didn't seem to be a room at all. Wooden floors, large insignificant pieces of furniture and antiques lay scattered among half-broken shelves and tables, one large window that seemed to peer out into nothingness – black and bleak – and double doors that seemed to dominate one wall completely.

"**You think you're dead?"**

Quinn gulped back the urge to be sick as she peered around the room, trying to find the owner of the voice, "This place isn't real, so obviously, I am dead."

The voice laughed mockingly, **"Would you believe me if I told you it was real? And that you are dead?"**

Her heart plunged deep into her stomach – she was dead. Only at the tender age of seventeen and her life was over. She was still in school, head Cheerleader, on honour roll, a mother that was slowly beginning to be the mother she was suppose to be, and had a loving boyfriend that would do anything for her..._would have_.

Tears sprang from her eyes before she could control them, and harshly she sobbed into her hands. "Oh God!"

"**He won't do anything for you." **The voice butted in mockingly, **"But I understand why you're crying – you think your life is over, that you won't be able to continue on with everything you had planned."**

"Well wouldn't you be crying?" She ripped her hands angrily from her face, staring up to the roof, "I'm dead! I'm seventeen and I'm dead!"

The voice chuckled, and suddenly, it seemed even closer to her, **"What would you do...if I told you that you could continue with your life?"**

Quinn's eyes narrowed into slits; everything was so weird. How could she believe the word of a person she couldn't even see? The voice seemed so disjointed from reality, a mix between female and male, but it also sounded foreign, like it didn't even belong from that time.

"But I'm dead, how can I just go back to my life?"

"**You can, simply with the use of this." **A small device clattered seemingly from thin air to the floor in front of her, clatteringly noisily to a stop. She went to touch it, but stopped at the last second, looking up to the air again, **"Touch it, I assure you, it won't hurt you."**

Slowly, she grazed her fingertips against the rectangualar metal, before eventually holding it. It was small, and fitted nicely against the palm of her hand. There was nothing special about it, it was just a grey piece of metal, no distinguishing marks on it.

"What's so special about this...?" She held the device up.

"**That device you hold is called a PAD – Paradox Alteration Device. You will use the PAD to go back in time and change your fate – you see, today, you are destined to die."**

"This-this is too weird...how can this be real?" Clambering up to her feet, she felt so out of place in her cheerleading uniform, "You expect me to believe that this... PAD thing...can make me go back in time? And that today of all days, I was destined to be murdered?"

"**Bingo." **

"I know what this is." Suddenly it became clearer, this was penance for getting pregnant with Beth – God was putting her through this to punish her, "It this because of Beth...?"

"**Beth?"**

"My..." She gulped back the feeling of vomiting and clutched the PAD tighter in her hand, the sharp edges of the metal pushing deep into her pale skin, "Daughter..."

"**Ah, Beth Fabray-Puckerman. No, no...this is not about your daughter."**

When her heart clutched in her chest at the sound of her daughter's name, she refused to acknowledge it, "So what is this about? Why me? Why can I go back and change my fate? Why can't anyone else?"

"**You're special. You're vital to the bigger picture."**

"Huh...?" Suddenly her head was beginning to throb, and she ripped out the tight ponytail to try and alleviate to tension in her head, allowing her soft blonde curls to fall against her shoulders and upper back, "I don't understand."

"**The answers will become clear in time. For now, the question is: Do you want to go back and survive? Or do you wish to give up and simply die?"**

"I..." She lowered her head, chin to her chest as she squeezed her eyes shut. It would be so easy to just give up; to let all the pain she'd been holding inside to just disappear along with her soul – to forget about Beth and what happened with her parents.

But she had so much to give. She had to finish school, she had to live her life, she had to get married and have children – the right way this time. She was a Fabray; she didn't just lie down and let the world fuck her over.

"Fine. I'll do it. I'll go back."

"**Excellent."**

"But what's the catch? What do you want? My soul?"

The voice chuckled humourlessly, **"Oh please, your soul? In this day and age...? No. There is no catch."**

"I find that hard to believe," Quinn muttered, mostly to herself.

"**Then do not believe it." **Suddenly the dominating double doors swung open, leading in to a black void, **"Just change your fate."**

"In what...?" Tentatively she walked toward the doors, "In space?"

"**Oh no, Quinn. These doors are exactly what your PAD is; a large machine that allows you to travel through time."**

"O-Okay..." Suddenly she found herself stood on the threshold, clutching the PAD tightly to her chest, "W-wait! What do I do when I go back?"

"**I doubt your assailant would attack you if you were with company..."**

And then she was pushed into the void.


	2. Chapter 1

**Shadow of Fate – Chapter 2**

"Fabray, wake the hell up!" The wooden bench she was laying on shuddered below her, and immediately her eyes snapped open. The familiar surroundings of the Cheerio locker room flooded her eye line, albeit a little bit fuzzy. Slowly her eyes focused on a familiar sight, Santana Lopez, stood above her with her hands on her hips, staring at the blonde Captain like she had a screw loose.

"Wha-? What happened?" Quinn rubbed her eyes roughly, feeling as if she'd slept for a few days. How had she gone from _that place_ back here again?

"I was in the middle of talking to you and you just ended up collapsing on me, managed to haul your fat ass onto the bench before you dropped to the floor though, Tubbers."

Normally she would have bristled at the nickname, but hearing Santana's voice, seeing Santana before her, she felt tears prick her eyes. Launching up from the locker room bench, she wrapped her arms tightly around the Latina and held on tight. With her eyes tightly shut she enjoyed the warmth that came from the other girl's body - she didn't think she'd feel that ever again.

She laughed gently and began shaking the Latina's shoulders as she pulled back, "I'm back!"

"Hey!" Santana shoved her back, "What's with the freak story, Juno? All you did was faint, it's not like you died or anything."

Quinn chuckled arrogantly and wiped the tears of joy that had somehow fallen to her pale cheeks with the palms of her hands, "Oh you have no idea." She paused, but only for a moment, "Maybe I dreamt it?"

"Dreamt what?" Santana's eyebrow rose, "You going loco or something? Are you doing this so I'll give you a lift home? Look, I didn't want to tell you this because of your gigantic mouth, but I'm going to B's _and_ whether you like it or not. I'm already late as it is."

Deep down, the blonde didn't want the Latina to go; she wanted to be around someone, anyone – even if that person didn't necessarily want to be around her. The words of the mysterious person echoed throughout her, sending a shiver up and down her spine; she had to find someone to walk with, if not, she'd die again.

"I'll take you to Breadstix if you give me a lift home."

Santana's usually arrogant face melted into one of pleasure, "Tempting..."

"Seriously, I'll take you every day of the week. Just...give me a ride home."

"You do realize...I want to get my mack on with Brittany, right?"

"You can do that anytime,"

"Maybe you haven't noticed Artie is dating her?"

"Well maybe if you stopped being such a wimp and told her you loved her she'd take you back."

Suddenly Santana's flat palms were shoving her at the shoulders, sending her crashing down to bench below her. The wood pressed painfully into the backs of her legs as Santana leaned above her, sneering a mere breath from her.

"You don't know anything!"

"S, I've known you since pre-school. You've loved Brittany since the day you laid eyes on her." It felt so good to talk about things from when her life was relatively normal. "Why don't you just tell her?"

"Well why don't you admit you bat for the other team?"

She bristled, "What?"

"Exactly. I see you make dough eyes at Mercedes."

"Mercedes Billingham? Cheerleader Mercedes Billingham?"

"Yup." Santana smirked and pulled back, standing tall and crossing her arms over her ample chest, "Just sayin', I so tapped that last year, and so not worth the effort."

"I don't make dough eyes at her. I'm her Captain, how do you expect me to talk to her if I can't look at her at the same time?"

"Perhaps without the 'Damn I want to fuck you' look accompanying it?" The Latina leaned down and grabbed her gym bag, shouldering it, "Look, I'm seeing B. You'll have to deal with the long ass walk home, see ya."

Quinn sat dejected on the bench, pressing her elbows into her knees and covering her face with her hands. With deep even breaths she tried to calm herself - she'd failed again and now she'd have to take the fated walk home. Again. Alone.

"Shit," She muttered and grabbed her bag.

She thought if she walked quicker, she'd miss the person that attacked her. Literally power walking down the sidewalk, she kept looking over her shoulder, terrified that someone was following her. So far, so good...no one was around and only a few cars drove past her as she walked. It seemed as if the coast was clear.

She stopped as she came to her shortcut, and turned to walk down the familiar alley before stopping. Something Santana said rang in her head – the long ass walk home. She'd been killed after taking the shortcut.

Smiling to herself, she adjusted the bag on her shoulder and continued down the road, avoiding the alley. "This must save me. It must."

It didn't stop her looking over her shoulder though, or calm her enough to put her iPod in again.

As she walked, she thought back to what had happened over the last couple of hours. Even though she had died and somehow come back, it seemed as if she was brought back to the right time – it just seemed as if she'd collapsed into Santana's arms. Maybe she had dreamt the entire thing? Maybe her body was so exhausted from school and Cheerio's practice that she was somehow going crazy with exhaustion?

She slowed her steps until she finally stopped, her bag heavy on her shoulder. There was only one way to prove it.

Her bag held her gym clothes, her phone, her iPod, spare underwear, another pair of Nike running shoes and...

The blonde reached deep into her bag, clasping her hand around the metal device that lay at the bottom. Slowly she pulled it out, clenching her jaw when she realized it was the PAD she was given when she was sent to Purgatory, as she liked to call it.

She still couldn't understand how a slim piece of metal could send her travelling back in time – there was nothing special about it. It was grey, thin, it almost looked like a small sheet of steel you'd line a bulkhead with, but nothing more.

But it proved it. She hadn't been dreaming, otherwise the PAD wouldn't exist. The voice had been real, and it had told her the truth. She was fated to die – why, she still didn't know, and in a way she didn't want to know.

What had she done so wrong that someone would want to kill her? The Fabray's were respected among the community; she had been a pillar of the community, never got into trouble – except for getting pregnant at 16, but that didn't warrant death did it?

She felt a shudder as she continued to stare at the PAD, and quickly shoved it back into her bag before looking over her shoulder. There was still no one, but the way the wind changed and froze her body, made her nervous.

The sun had already set by the time she walked onto her street, the familiar lights of her house shining like a beacon. "Thank you Lord," She broke into a sprint, feet pounding against the pavement as she closed in on her safe haven.

She was on her driveway, her car parked – her mom was home, all she needed to do was go in and she'd be safe. She took the steps up to her porch two at a time, and her hand was on the doorknob, ready to turn when the familiar stab of pain shoot through her back.

Quinn screamed out in agony, feeling the knife twist painfully in her back before being wretched out with a force she didn't know possible. She collapsed to the ground, jarring her back on the wooden porch beneath her.

"Oh God, Quinnie!" The door was open – when did that happen? Her mother collapsed beside her, brushing her blonde locks from her eyes – when did her ponytail come out? "You'll be okay! I'm going to call an ambulance!"

She tried to call out, tried to tell her mom not to leave her, but when her mom rushed back into the house, her head smashed painfully onto the ground, her body too weak to hold it up any longer. Her vision fuzzed around her, fading from light to dark. She thought she heard her mother scream to someone on the phone, and she swore she felt her mother hold her, then the whining of an ambulance in the distance. But she was already gone by the time the paramedics crouched down beside her.

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><p><strong>"You thought that taking the long route would save you...?"<strong>

The voice was almost mocking her, and as she sat against a broken shelf, the wooden slats digging into her back, she felt like bursting into tears. She was dead, again – that meant it was game over, right?

**"Like I said, being in company would deter your assailant. How can it be so hard to walk home with someone?"**

"I tried Santana, but she was busy."

**"Was she the only one in the school...? Was there no one else that would have walked with you...?"**

Quinn's head slowly rose, "Like who...?"

**"Find out."**

The doors swung open, and with a heavy heave, she pulled her body up from the floor. "Why do you want me to survive so badly? What's so special about me?"

**"You will find out. Eventually."**

Her body was forced into the void.

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><p>"Fabray! Wake the hell up!" The bench beneath her shuddered, and her eyes snapped open almost instantly. Santana stood above her, hands on her lips, brow furrowed.<p>

"Shit."

"What...?"

Quinn sat up quickly, almost headbutting the Latina in the process before swinging her feet off and planting them on the ground, "I take it you won't be giving me a lift home...?"

"Uh, no."

"Okay." Quinn stood and shouldered her gym bag, "Have fun with Brittany."

"Wait!" Quinn kept walking, "I didn't tell you I was going to see B!" She heard, but didn't bother to reply, the locker room door already slammed shut behind her. It was already four o'clock, and the thought of finding someone still in the school at that time was slim to none.

So instead, she pulled out her phone and dialled a familiar number.

"Yeah?"

"Sam, where are you?"

"At home, why...?"

"Come pick me up."

"Babe, you know I can't. My dad's going away on that business trip – I won't see him for a few weeks."

"Can't you just leave for ten minutes? That's how long it'll take."

"You know I can't Quinn, I would if I could."

"Sam. If you loved me like you say you do, you'd pick me up." She knew it was low – really low, picking on Sam's feelings for her; but it was so easy to manipulate the boy, and it was the only way she'd get through to her boyfriend.

"That's unfair, you know I love you, but I won't choose between my dad and you, Quinn."

"Urgh, fine. Whatever." She jammed her thumb down hard on the touch screen of her iPhone and groaned - why have a boyfriend when he wouldn't do things for you? Would ten minutes kill him? She sighed and lowered her head; that was the first time she'd heard Sam's voice since the whole ordeal began, and she'd treated him like crap. She'd hugged Santana for Christ sake, why couldn't she tell Sam she loved him too and that it was okay?

She threw her phone back into her gym bag with a heavy sigh, not really caring if it broke. Phone's could be replaced, her life couldn't.

The fact that Sam wouldn't even bother to come pick her up made her already bad mood, worse and as she stomped through the halls of McKinley High, she was glad that no one was around to see her muttering to herself, kicking lockers with every few steps.

"Stupid Sam, stupid Santana..."

_Every single day I walk down the street,_

_I hear people say 'baby so sweet'._

_Ever since puberty, everybody stares at me,_

_Boys, girls, I can't help it baby."_

Quinn stopped suddenly mid-stride and bit her inner cheek, forcing back an almighty groan of annoyance, "You really are trying to kill me aren't you?" She gazed up to the ceiling and sighed, "No wonder I'm fated to die..."

She wanted to walk away, to try and find someone else to walk home with, but the powerful tones of Rachel Berry's voice echoed throughout the empty halls and, almost entranced, she walked to the auditorium doors and walked in.

Rachel was alone, as usual, sat at the piano, gently fingering the keys as she sang to 'Take Me or Leave Me.' A huge feat, to say the song was originally a duet. The brunette's hair covered her face as she hunched over the keys, belting out every word tone perfect. Quinn bristled -she knew she was occasionally sharp, the pint-sized Diva had told her on more than one occasion that she was, and the fact that Rachel had literally the perfect voice, made her seeth with jealousy.

"Berry!" She barked, stomping up the stage.

The diva's hands jumped against the keys, sending a bitter tone out to echo around the empty auditorium. "Quinn!" Rachel pressed her hands desperatly to her chest and took one deep breath, "You scared me!"

"Yeah...why are you still here?"

Rachel's brow furrowed, "I stay until five every day, to practice."

"Every day...? Don't you have a life...?"

The doe brown eyes looked wounded for a moment, before the usual determination shone through once more, "Just because I like to practice everyday doesn't mean I don't have a life, Quinn. As you well know, you practice daily, more than you should in fact, for the Cheerio's, yet you deem yourself to have a life, do you not?"

"You sound like you belong in the fifties."

Rachel's chin tilted up, the well known sign that she was willing to battle the blonde, "Quinn, if you have nothing better to do than insult me, could you please leave? I have another forty-five minutes practice left and I assure you, I don't want to waste it arguing with you."

**"She could save you, you know. What's an hour or two out of your life, if you get to keep it...?"**

"Did you hear that?" Quinn dropped her gym bag to the stage floor, peering out into the auditorium to try and find the owner of the voice. The familiar voice, a mix of female and male echoed around her, seeming to envelope her. It set her on edge; she couldn't understand how a voice could affect her so much. It felt as if someone was walking over her grave; making her skin crawl with dread.

"I hear nothing Quinn. Which is wrong, because I should be hearing Take Me or Leave Me right now."

The blonde sighed, completely ignoring Rachel who still sat behind her and pressed her hands to her hips, "It's right...what's an hour or two...?"

"What?" The diva sounded exasserbated and Quinn turned on the heel to face the brunette.

"I'm going to regret this... I know I am," At Rachel's furrowed brow, she continued, slowly, almost ripping the words from her throat, "But I could...practice with you...after all...that song is a duet..."

A huge beaming smile spread across Rachel's face, and Quinn immediatly felt like throwing up, "Really?" Suddenly the smile dropped, "Where are the Cheerio's and their slushies?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Look Berry, this isn't a joke...or a prank, and no matter how much I'd love to see you covered in slushy from head to toe, I'd prefer to just sing. Alright?" She plonked herself beside the brunette on the piano bench, making sure to sit as far away as she possibly could without falling off the bench.

She watched as the brunette's fingers began to gently finger the piano keys, she'd only been sat down a few seconds but her ass already felt numb from hanging off the side of the bench, her head stung with an oncoming headache, and the fact that Rachel was singing right in her ear, made her want to bolt from the room.

Why did it have to be Rachel Berry? She couldn't possibly understand. Why couldn't it have been Puck, or Finn that had stayed behind after football practice to take her home? Sure, she had Puck hadn't talked probably since the whole Beth thing from the year before, and she preferred it that way - but she was willing to dig up all those unwanted memories, and actually have a conversation with the father of her child if it meant she wouldn't be stuck with Rachel Berry.

But the diva was the only one left in school - she knew that, the rest was just wishful thinking. So with a heavy, overdramatic sigh, just before her line came in the song, she muttered, "Oh, and you're walking me home after."

The shrill sound of the diva's hands falling down on the keys put Quinn's teeth on edge.

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><p>"Remind me again why I'm driving you home, Quinn?" The blonde had remained silent for the duration of the brunette's practice, and only opened her mouth to tell what street she lived on. The silence that rang throughout the car was both uncomfortable and comfortable - the comfort of being safe in a car with another person was undeniable, but the discomfort of that person being Rachel iFreakingi Berry, almost made her want to die.

Again.

"Quinn?" The blonde sighed when she realized they'd stopped at a red light. The brunette wasn't going to let her go until she held some sort of conversation; and it's not as if Rachel had to actually drive her home - especially after the way she'd treated her since seventh grade.

"Look Berry...I just wanted a lift home, and you were the only one with a car left at school."

"Okay," The fact that Rachel had readily excepted Quinn's excuse had the blonde worried. Quinn peered up at the traffic light, urging it to turn to green. For some reason, the other girl didn't like to talk when she was driving, most probably trying to keep all her attention on the road.

She glared, and glared, but the light just didn't want to change for her unnerving hazel glare.

"Did you hear that?"

Honestly, she'd been too busy glaring, and as she ripped her eyes away from the traffic light, she stopped them on the brunette driver, "Hear what...?"

"I can't describe it..." She seemed so confused, her brows furrowed as she tried to describe the sound. The urge to run her thumb over the crease between the diva's eyes made her jump in her seat and tear her eyes away. _No...that's just wrong_.

"Then shut up Berry, it was probably just your imagination."

Rachel didn't mention it again, but she heard the sound two more times by the time she'd reached the Fabray residence. She pulled her car over onto the curb and turned the key in the ignition, "There you are." She seemed dejected, and Quinn felt an almighty tug in her heart.

It killed her to say it, but, "Thanks, Berry..." She grabbed her bag from the backseat and jumped out of the car, slamming the door shut clean behind her, completely covering up the brunette's reply.

"Wait!" She'd only made it halfway up the drive before the voice stopped her, "You dropped this...thing." Quinn turned quickly and snatched the PAD from Rachel's hand, "Quinn...what is that exactly?" She peered down at the machine, her eyes wide with wonder, "It's glowing, I don't think I've ever seen anything like that before."

"It's...a charging device."

Rachel's eyes flicked breifly up to Quinn's before looking back down to the PAD, "A charging device...? For what?"

"My iPhone...it's a new model." She cringed, but her quick thinking saved her.

"Well, I certainly do hope it's eco-friendly and recycable. Most electronics these days give off too much carbon-dioxide."

Quinn couldn't hold back the chuckle, "What? Rachel Berry: Eco Warrior now?"

"Just because I like to do my part for the enviroment doesn't make me an Eco Warrior, Quinn. While I do care for the planet, I care more for the protection of animals. Actually," Rachel's eyes brightened, "Would you care to join PETA? I know how much you like animals, I remember in eighth grade you adopted two boarder collie's from a rescue home..."

Quinn's eyes narrowed dangerously, "How the hell do you remember that?"

Rachel's throat bobbed, and for a moment, Quinn couldn't tear her eyes away from the diva's throat - mostly because she wanted to rip it out, "Are you that much of a freak that you listened to my conversations?"

"No, Quinn. Your father brought them to school for you, I was waiting at the main entrance waiting for my father's to pick me up."

Now she just felt fucking guilty, "Oh." Quinn sighed heavily, "Sorry then..."

"It's quite alright." Rachel smiled, but Quinn could tell that it was forced, "Well, have a good evening."

"Yeah..."

She turned and continued up the path to her front door, her eyes staring down hard at the glowing object in her hands. Why was it glowing green? Did that meant it was ready to...go or something? She turned the PAD in her hands, trying to find some sort of button to press - but there was none.

"For God sake...how the hell am I suppose to use this?" She muttered to herself, glancing over her shoulder when she heard the engine of Rachel's car roar to life. She stopped beside a large oak tree that dominated her front lawn, and leaned against it, still trying to figure out the little device in her hands, "Work! Or...something? I don't know! I wasn't given an instruction manual."

The device dropped from her hands, and somewhere, somewhere far in the distance she swore she heard screaming - Rachel screaming? She collapsed to the ground, feeling a deep pressure on her back. Warmth flooded her back, and in an instant she knew it was her blood.

Rachel's screams, and then her mother's echoed around her - and Judy Fabray held her daughter while Rachel Berry, the girl Quinn Fabray tormented for years on end, sobbed down the phone to the paramedics, begging them to hurry.

* * *

><p><strong>"It seems someone is behind a tree..."<strong>

Quinn's arms were wrapped around her knees, clutching them tightly to her chest, "What you do want me to do? Chop the damn tree down...?"

**"Oh...don't be ridiculous, but maybe it's time to finally use the PAD."**

"And how the hell do I use it? It was glowing, but what do I press? There's no buttons!"

**"Just trust the machine, it will do all the work for you."**

* * *

><p>"It's glowing, I don't think I've ever seen anything like that before."<p>

Quinn stared at the girl before her and sighed, she was back - again. "It's a device, to charge my phone. Y'know, eco friendly and all that jazz."

The brunette grinned and pulled back from the glowing PAD, "It's good to see that you are caring for the enviroment, Quinn!"

"Yeah..." Her eyes drifted down to the device in her hands, "Yeah...Eco Warrior..."

Rachel's giggle sent a shiver up her spine, but she could hardly register it as she turned the device over in her hand. "Trust it...?"

"Trust what...?"

"Oh!" Quinn's head snapped up, and she smiled bashfully, "N-nothing, I'm just gonna go inside now..."

Rachel seemed confused, and opened her mouth to question Quinn, but thought better of it before turning around and walking back toward her car. The blonde, in the heat of the moment, stared down at the PAD and squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperatly to make herself believe in the device and the power it held.

When nothing happened, she was about to give up, before her body was enveloped in a glowing blue light. Her body felt light, and suddenly she realized she was hovering a couple inches off the floor, "What the-?"

Her body felt tight, and then lax, then tight again as the light swirled around her. The terror began to rise in her body - what was happening? Was she dying again? She tried to scream out to Rachel who was still walking toward her car, unaware of what was happening behind her, but nothing would come.

With a crashing cresendo of light and electricity that swarmed around her body, she was sucked into a void remarkably like the one from Purgatory.

"Oh, and Quinn if you want to practice again you ca-," The diva turned and looked around sharply, "Quinn...?" With a heavy sigh, she fiddled with the keys in her hands and shrugged her shoulders, "Damn me and my imperfect timing."

The first thing she felt was her head slamming down hard on the floor beneath her, the second thing she felt was her body aching, then the next, the PAD falling from mid-air to smack her clean in the face.

"Fuck!" She brushed the device from her face and rolled over onto her stomach, rubbing the back of her head gently with the palm of her hand, "Never...doing that again..."

Slowly, she looked up - it was her house. She was lying in front of her house, but something was different. Her house looked different, it looked almost brand new; the stone that her house was prodominatly made from looked clean and fresh, almost as if it'd only just been put there. But the Fabray household had been around for hundred's of years; she knew that.

"What...?" Her eyes drifted to the surrounded houses - they all looked brand new. With a grunt, she pushed her body up, standing shakily to her feet, "What?" The PAD lay at her feet, the ominous green glow now gone completely.

She picked it up, and stared at a read out that had seemingly appeared from nowhere. It said the date - 4th November, that was the right date. But the year...

With a light scream, she jumped back, dropping the device as if burnt. The year. It wasn't right. It couldn't be!

It was 2011.

Not 1580.


	3. Chapter 2

The breeze that sifted past Quinn's body was a warm one, but she couldn't help but shudder. Her surroundings were almost the same as from her own time – almost hauntingly so. But nothing was the same. The homes around her were brand new, there were no cars on the roads, and actually, there were no roads; only cobbled roads that led into nearby streets and dark alleys, no lights nearby to light the paths.

The moon shone brightly from above, and illuminated the dark streets, casting ghoulish shadows against the stone walls. A smell permeated throughout the air, and at first she couldn't pinpoint it, but eventually she realized what it was. A mixture of meat, from a butcher's shop that she could see halfway down the street – meat hanging un-chilled from menacing hooks that swung in the breeze, along with the distinct smell of manure.

She gagged, and only just held back the urge to be sick by clasping her hand over her mouth, swallowing back the watering sensation at the back of her throat. The blonde wanted to blame the sickness on the smell, but she knew she wanted to throw up because of the time travel too. She was an in an unknown part of time, so far back that it seemed completely unreal. It was a dream, it must have been. No one could really time travel, no one could die and come back to life – no one could made a deal with a disjointed voice and have no dues to pay.

Maybe she was dead – and her subconscious was making her suffer in hell.

"Oh God, where am I…?" She muttered, pulling her hand away from her mouth, the dull throb of sickness finally dissipating. She took several steps back, looking from 'her' house and the butcher's shop down the road. It wasn't as if she could go and knock on the door of a house that she lived in over three hundred years in the future and expect a Fabray to be stood behind it. Hell no, paradox or not, that was damn near impossible.

Quickly, she weighed up her decision before turning and running down toward the butcher's, glancing down nearby alley's to try and find someone, anyone, that could help her. Why had the PAD taken her to this time specifically? What did she have to do here that meant she'd live in the future? What could she change that would still be changed over three hundred years?

There was a faint glow in the butcher's shop when she came to a stop before it; the door was open a crack, and only the gentle, almost melodic slamming of a knife against a wooden chopping block echoed throughout the air. With a heavy sigh, the blonde steeled herself and pushed open the door, walking into the unknown.

Surprisingly, it was a woman that was stood behind the wooden counter. Her hair pinned up amongst a white rag, dirty with grime and use. Her clothes were tattered, and surprisingly she was wearing a dress, a rather old fashioned grey dress that hung down to her ankles, the sleeves adorned with what looked like the rope you'd attach around curtains. It was bizarre, but of course, Quinn wasn't stupid – and although she wasn't necessarily up to date on the fashions of women in 1580, she assumed that's what they'd look like. Drab, baggy and…covered up.

She stared down at her uniform and flushed bright red – she'd get a few looks with the short skirt that barely made it to mid-thigh.

"Uhm…excuse me?"

The chopping soon stopped, and she watched as the woman grabbed a nearby rag and wiped the blood from her hands. Quinn felt herself unbalance slightly at the look of blood, but mentally kicked her ass back into gear – she ate bacon every day, she knew where it came from.

"Can I-," The woman stopped almost instantly as she turned, regarding Quinn with wide, shocked eyes, "My heavens! What are you wearing?"

"I uh…" Quinn glanced back down at her uniform, "My uniform."

"Women don't wear uniforms; do you not know your place?"

Quinn's brow furrowed, and as she looked up to the woman that stood before her, she couldn't help but retort, "And I thought women weren't supposed to be butchers?"

The butcher's eyebrow slowly rose, and the silence was almost deafening between the two before the woman extended her hand, "My name is Mary, and you are?"

Quinn took the hand, and fought back the cringe at the feeling of sweat on the woman's palm, "Quinn."

"Unusual name," Mary's head tilted softly to the side, "Are you foreign…?"

"Uh..."

"Hm…How old are you, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Seventeen,"

"Much too young to be out this late," Quickly, Mary's hand went to her apron and untied it swiftly between deft fingers, "I'll take you home this instant. Your mother and father must be frightfully worried."

"I uh, that's not necessary, honestly!" She waved her hands in front of her, somehow thinking it would deter the butcher, but Mary continued to move, rounding the counter and reaching to take her elbow, "I don't have parents!"

Her jaw immediately clenched shut – why she said that, she didn't know, but an impacting sense of doom hit her stomach as if she'd been punched. It was the first time she'd ever said she didn't have parents, and in a way, she didn't, the fact that even her great-great-great-great grandparents hadn't even been born yet, and that fact almost made her want to cry. She was alone, really alone, for the first time in her life.

"Oh you poor dear, is that why you're dressed like you are?" Mary's hand slammed onto his wide hips, her green eyes running up and down Quinn's body, almost as if she was inspecting her, "Tut-tut…well that won't do."

"I like what I'm wearing…" At Mary's widened eyes, the blonde continued, "Honestly, I do. But…I just need your help with something."

"Are you looking for meat?"

"Well…no…" Suddenly the urge to eat bacon made her mouth salivate, "I was wondering if the Fabray family lived here?"

"Fabray…?" Mary's hand slowly reached up to cup her chin, stroking slowly as she contemplated the question, "Sorry, I've lived here all my life and I've never heard of any Fabray."

"Oh…well, okay." Her figure visibly shrunk as the news hit her. She had no family in this time – and even if she did, would she be even able to tell them that she was from the future? Would they even have believed her? "Well…thanks anyways,"

"Anyways…? What a frightful way you speak," To say Mary was only twenty-five at the most shocked Quinn, but then again, people did talk a little weird back in the past. "But I can't let you go out there alone, especially with nothing in your belly."

"I'm not hungry, really." She actually wasn't, the thought of eating was making her sick, and the smell of the meat that Mary would probably cook, made her want to projectile vomit on the poor butcher.

"Nonsense! I'm about to shut the shop up for the night anyway, come around back and sit in my kitchen; I'll cook you up something nice and filling."

"I uh…honestly, I have to go."

"I won't ask again, Quinn, now come along."

Before she even had change to interject, Mary had already turned the lock on the shop door and pocketed the key. She was stuck, and unless she wanted to accost the butcher, she wouldn't be getting out anytime soon.

"Fine…" Quinn muttered, following Mary into the back room.

"Welcome to my humble home."

The blonde's eyebrow's rose so high she was lucky they didn't shoot off into the roof – Mary's house was just a small room, a raging fireplace no bigger than small compact heater, three wooden stools and a table that could fit two people at a push. The floor was made purely of concrete, and the only sense of a bedroom was a small wooden cot, pushed against the back wall.

"You…don't really have a big place, do you?"

"I may be the only butcher in Lima, but men aren't too fanciful about buying their meat from a lady."

"Then why do you do it?" She took the stool that she was offered when Mary pulled one out, watching as the young woman got to work at the fireplace, pulling a black metal kettle toward the fire.

"I have to make a living – and all the jobs at the manor house were taken."

"Manor house…?"

"The Lord's house," Mary glanced over her shoulder, "Surely you must have seen it?"

"I probably have," Quinn lied quickly, "I have a pretty crap memory."

"Crap?" Mary stopped what she was doing completely and turned on her knees toward Quinn, "What's 'crap'?"

"Uh…it means rubbish," Oh shit, was she messing with the past here? "Horrid, horrible…that sort of…" Mary's eyes swam deep with confusion, "Stuff…" The blonde ended weakly, propping her elbows on the dusty table in front of her. "Sorry, forget I said anything."

"Crap." Mary muttered to herself as she nodded, "I may have to call the scraps of meat that no one eats that – most of the people in the town buy the scraps for their dogs. Crap…good word, Quinn."

Quinn's eyes widened, almost comically wide, and she opened her mouth to complain, but Mary turned back around and opened the kettle, pulling out a lump of meat. It looked horrible, and from her seat at the table, she couldn't really get a good look at the cut, so with a lump in her throat, she asked:

"What's that?"

"Cow's heart – good for growing women such as yourself,"

She didn't remember blacking out, but when she awoke on the cot, Mary sat in front of the fire, warming her hands, Quinn groaned.

"Ah, awake I see?" Mary chuckled and rested her hands in her dressed lap, "I take it cow's heart doesn't do much for your rumbling stomach?"

Quinn bit so hard down on her inner cheek she thought she felt it bleed.

"What must you eat, if you won't eat heart?"

"I uh…well…I'm from abroad, and we eat different things."

"Oh?" Mary grinned and shuffled closer to the cot, not caring that she scuffed her only dress, "Where are you from?"

Quickly, Quinn lied, "England. London."

Mary's head tilted, "You don't sound British."

"I haven't been there for a while, I travel. Y'know…"

"Y'know…?" Mary echoed, her brow furrowing, "I wish I could travel," With a sigh, she heaved herself to her feet and literally dragged herself back to the fire, "But I can't."

"Well…why don't you?" Quinn propped herself up on her elbows, wincing at the sharp pain in the back of her head where she'd obviously bumped it, "It can't be that hard."

"I don't have the money, Quinn. Where would I find the money to travel like you do?"

"I uh…sell the shop?"

"Sell?" Mary's head snapped to the young blonde, "Oh no…I couldn't sell my shop. Although I wish to leave and start a new life, this shop is my home, my livelihood, what if my life in another country didn't work out? What would I come back to? Nothing."

Suddenly, Quinn realized she was messing with the past. If she hadn't come here, Mary would still be working in the shop, still happy with her life in the town – but thanks to her, she was contemplating selling and leaving the country. Mary's life would completely change, maybe for the better, but maybe not. She couldn't be the cause of that. She wasn't stupid; she knew that if you changed something in the past, the future would change, no matter how small the change was. Something insignificant to the blonde could be significant to someone else, and she couldn't allow herself to be the cause of that.

"Yeah, maybe you should just stick to what you're used to."

Mary nodded, eyes wounded with a barely hidden pain. Slowly, Quinn rose to her feet and sat down beside the young woman, clutching her knees to her chest as she allowed the fire to warm her, "Don't you have any family?"

"Both my mother and father died when I was still young. My older brother took care of me until I was eleven, but then he just…disappeared."

"Disappeared?"

Mary nodded slowly, "Yes, one day I walked into his room and he just…wasn't there. I assumed he was at work; he was the butcher here before me, so I took him his lunch as usual. But the shop was shut and he was nowhere to be found. I looked everywhere for him, but nothing."

"And no one saw him?"

"No one,"

A flood of sympathy washed through the young cheerleader's body – and she thought her life was bad. Losing everything you had in one morning must have been the most horrible thing someone could ever feel, "I'm…so sorry."

Mary waved her hand flippantly, "It was long ago, Quinn. I've learnt to forget about it." Gently, the hand sifted through dull blonde hair. "I just miss him sometimes."

"What was his name…?"

"Samuel." Mary sighed, "Some days I wonder if he's okay, but others I hope he's dead because I don't like the thought of him in pain. Is that cruel to think?"

Quinn shook her head, "Of course not."

Mary accepted her answer and sniffled gently before turning her attention back to the kettle, "The meat is almost done – I must insist you eat, Quinn."

The cheerleader sighed heavily, "If…I have to."

* * *

><p>Lima in the morning was a roar of activity – people stood behind carts of goods; vegetables, meat, small trinkets and clothes, shouting for people to come and buy their goods. Small children circled around their mother's feet, playing an impromptu game of tag between one another as their mother's shopped.<p>

Quinn's heart melted; if only Lima had that sense of community back in her time. It was so beautiful to see Lima in the way that it should have been – a full community spirit, raging trade and aspiring children.

"I would try to keep away from prying eyes with your clothes, Quinn. You'll be the talk of the town in no time, and some men in town are less than eligible for your intentions."

"I'll uh…keep that in mind, thank you Mary." The butcher held the young woman close to her, "Thanks."

"Good luck out there, young Quinn. Try the town centre if you need any help, and you're welcome back here anytime you wish."

The blonde left the butcher's store, closing the door firmly behind her as she gazed out into the open street. There were many people, but most of them were too busy to even notice the bright red and white of her uniform. But in her haste, she ducked into a nearby alley and pressed herself against a wall, hoping that she wouldn't be seen.

First things first – she had to find out why she was in this time. She would take Mary's advice and go to the town centre, wishing that the answer she sought were there.

Every time she heard voices, she tried not to jump out of her skin – it wasn't as if the people could do anything to her for what she was wearing, but the thought of being pointed out amongst everyone in the community set her teeth on edge. She decided it'd be better to keep a low profile.

Eventually, she made it to the town centre; which was harder to find than a town centre should have been. Naturally, it was in the middle of a town, but she didn't know where the middle was – so after walking into dead end alley ways, jumping in and out of doorways when people passed, she eventually made it to the centre.

It wasn't much, if she was being honest. There was a large town hall, the same one from her time, albeit cleaner, large stone steps that dominated their way up to the double doors. Apart from that, there were only stocks that littered the sides of the centre. And what shocked the young blonde, were that some of them were occupied.

She'd heard of stocks, especially in AP History – they were used to hold people that didn't adhere to the code of the town. Even if meant burglary, stealing food, or even something as daft as dressing above one's station, you would be put in the stocks to be laughed at – and more commonly, thrown rotten food at.

Most of the people in the stocks were women, most wearing dresses that would be regarded too risqué – mostly because of the colour, or showing off too much cleavage outside of the home. Others were men, who'd obviously been violent – their hands battered and bruised.

Just watching them made Quinn shudder, the way their backs were bent into uncomfortable positions, hands and head locked in a barbaric wooden confinement. Slowly, making sure to look around for anyone, she made her way up the town centre steps and into the town hall.

She knew the town hall like the back of her hand, her father had been here on more than one occasion for work parties, and the fact that the Celibacy ball was held their every year, meant Quinn knew where to go and where to find it.

But it didn't help that she didn't know what to find.

The shuffling of feet and the murmurs of two men's voiced echoed from a hall to her left and quickly, she dived behind a statue – now she knew what Mary meant – this was the Lord of Lima's statue, a rather robust looking man, respected among the community. She remembered hearing her father speak about him on more than one occasion – making him out to be some sort of martyr for the way he handled the community.

She clutched desperately to the statue, glancing out from behind it when the two men stopped in the middle of the hall. One was dressed impeccably, a robe covering the whole of his body, slick grey hair pushed back from his eyes. "His Lordship wishes the trees to be planted by the end of tonight, and that is the end of the issue."

"But Sir, I can't do it by myself. I am only one man – I cannot plant a tree in every garden by the end of today."

"Then find the time. No more complaining."

The other man protested, dirty and calloused hands held out in begging, "Please, sir, I cannot."

"Find. The. Time. That is all," And with that, the man turned on his heel and stalked away.

The chubby man sighed heavily, running his hands across his face in exhaustion. He seemed to be muttering to himself, but Quinn couldn't hear what he was saying for the life of her. But what the two men spoke about peaked her interest – an tree was to be planted in every garden. Her killer was hiding behind the tree that stood proudly in her front yard – if the tree wasn't planted, then the killer would have nothing to hide behind.

"Yes!" Quinn slapped her hand quickly over her mouth when the man turned to regard the statue, "Shit," She whispered to herself.

"Come out. Where are you?" The man walked slowly toward the statue, brows furrowed with annoyance, "I'm telling you. Come out this instant."

Slowly, Quinn stepped out from behind the statue and sighed as the man clutched his chest, eyes staring at her bare thighs, "Yes…I know…But I can't help the way I'm dressed."

"I-I…that is so wrong! Have you no shame, young lady? You should be out in the stocks among those other common criminals!"

Quinn's hazel eyes rolled, "Look, I'm here to help you. So unless you want to report me and get me locked up, I doubt you're going to get all those tree's planted on time."

The man stared intently at Quinn, "You're a woman, how would you know how to plant a seedling?"

She'd gone it in kindergarten, but she wouldn't tell him that.

"I'm a woman of many talents. Now…would you rather I help you or just go? The Lord would be pretty unhappy if his order wasn't completed on time."

She was getting pretty good at this…

"Hm…" The man wiped his palms on the thighs of his ratty three quarter pants and sighed, "I…suppose I could use some help, but if you're asked, I did this myself, you hear?"

"Of course," Quinn raised her hands in defeat and smiled, "It was all you."

The man seemed to ponder for a few more moments before a shy grin erupted on his face, "Well…I suppose we should get to work. My name is Charles by the way."

"Quinn," She took his hand happily and shook it, "So, what do we have to do?"

"Only two roads in town need the seedlings, but two roads is still too much for me to just handle. So if you could help me plant them, I'll take one road, and you the other, the job should be done in half the time."

The blonde nodded and regarded the short balding man, "I uh…would you mind if I took Crescent Road?"

The man's brown eyebrow rose slowly, "How do you know that's one of the road's that needs to be worked on?"

Shit. She knew she'd made a mistake, "Lucky guess?"

He didn't seem convinced, but the outcome of getting help from a good looking young girl was too much to throw away, "Well…okay…you can take Crescent Road and I'll take Summerset. We'll meet at the end of the day, and I'll evaluate your work. Okay?"

"Fine be my, boss." She had no idea where that came from.

Charles grinned widely, "Boss? I like that!"

Quinn chuckled nervously as the man wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her toward the entrance, "Do you mind if we take the back routes? I don't really want to get stopped because of your clothes…"

The blonde laughed, "Nah, I was about to suggest the same thing."

She had a wheelbarrow, and so many seedlings the thought of planting them all was making her feel exhausted. She hadn't realized how long her road was, but then again, if it took two minutes by car just to get to the end of it, she should have really known it would have been a tough job.

"Great…" Honestly, she just wanted to not plant any of the tree's and just go back to her own time, but by the way her PAD didn't react, it was obvious that she had to plant the rest.

So she got to work, kneeling down in the dirt of people's small front gardens and began to plant each individual seedling.

"Wow!" Charles' voice erupted behind her and she jumped up to her feet, swaying lightly as the feeling came back to her knees – she'd been on them way too long, and the sweat that marred her forehead was beginning to take its toll on her. She was exhausted, sweaty, thirsty and she just wanted to go home. "Here, take a drink, you deserve it!" He looked equally as dirty, but she didn't think twice about snatching the travelling tankard of water from him and glugging it down greedily. The water was warm, and she would have killed for an icecube or two, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"You finished the whole street!" The sun was beginning to set, and honestly, she wasn't sure how she'd gotten through it all, "I'm proud of you Quinn, very well done."

"Thanks…" She gasped, pulling the tankard away from her lips, "Are we done now?"

"Ah," He took the water back from her and screwed the cap back on, "Not yet, I have to evaluate your work first, make sure you didn't miss anything."

Slowly he took in every seedling, making sure it was planted just so, and after making some corrections to the soil, he moved on to the next garden. The Fabray house was sixteen houses up, and the way her knees were quaking against one another made her just want to sit down and wait for him to finish – but there was no seedling planted at that house. She had to make sure it stayed that way.

Eventually he made his way to the front of 'her' house and frowned, "I…think you missed a spot, Quinn. Easy mistake to make!" He grinned and reached into the dirty leather skin bag that hung from his shoulder, pulling out a fresh seedling, "I'll just plant this…"

Charles leaned down to the ground but Quinn rushed in front of him, "I uh…don't think you should plant a tree here."

"What?" He straightened his back and adjusted the thick glasses on the bridge of his nose, "Why…?"

"I…think this house would look better without one."

"But it would be the odd one out, and his Lordship want's every home with a growing tree."

"Honestly, I'm a woman…I know about these things."

He shook his head and chuckled, "Quinn, I'm the Lord's gardener; I know more about this than you do." Gently he pushed her to the side, "Sorry, but this need to be planted."

She watched with enraged eyes as Charles bent down and planted the seedling in a hole he dug with his own hand. "There!" He pulled back and dusted off his hand, "All done and even." He grinned at the young blonde before him, "I would take you for a drink to celebrate, but I have to go see his Lordship."

"That's fine."

Charles smiled and pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, "Thank you so much for the help, young lady. You truly are a pillar of this community…even with those distasteful clothes you wear."

Quinn couldn't help but chuckle, "Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment."

The small man grinned and patted her gently on the shoulder with a dirty hand before turning to walk down the road, his shoulder's seeming lighter as he strolled down toward the manor house. Quinn smiled to herself – it actually…felt good to help out.

When Charles had turned the corner, she turned down to the seedling at her feet and frowned, "If I get rid of it…they'll just replace it…"

She gazed down at her fingernails, grimacing at the dirt that laid in the bed and groaned. How could she get rid of the tree and make it stay that way?

Her eyes shone wildly, "The roots!"

Quickly she dived to her knees and pulled out the seedling, making sure to not damage it as she turned it over. Slowly, one by one she pulled each root from the tree, until eventually there were none left.

She pushed the seedling back into the dirt and cupped the soil around it just like Charles had, before standing up and allowing the roots to float off into the breeze. She watched as they danced in the air before falling heavily to the ground, rolling on down the road, somehow following Charles' path.

"Done and done."

She chuckled to herself, and in her mirth she almost missed the whirring sound of something nearby. "Huh…?" The blonde felt her body vibrate, and quickly she ripped up her top and stared at the PAD that was tucked securely into the skirt of her uniform. It was glowing green again, the read out reading 2011.

It was time to go.

"Oh…wow." She pulled out the PAD and stared at it, "Trust it…" She whispered to herself, shutting her eyes tight, hands grasping the device as if her life depended on it.

As the light engulfed her once more, and the electricity around her amplified to magnificent proportions, she whispered into the air, leaving only her words behind as her body disappeared.

"Thank you Mary, thank you Charles."

She collapsed in a heap onto the floor, this time on her knees. One day, she'd get the landing down to a T. But then again, she hoped she wouldn't have to do that anymore.

Quinn glanced around, noticing her gym bag that sat dejected by the front wheel of her car. It was still dark, and from the read out from the PAD, only twenty minutes had passed since Rachel had dropped her off.

"Damn…" She rose to her feet and dusted off her knees, cringing when she felt the caked in mud of her skin. Quickly, she turned around and grinned, the tree which she had been so used to being there, wasn't. The oak tree had disappeared in time, and it looked as if it'd never existed.

"Sorry Charles," Quinn chuckled to herself.

"Quinn? What on earth are you covered in?" Her mother, Judy stood on the doorstep, clutching a glass of ice water.

She grinned, "Earth!" Quickly she grasped her gym bag and launched up the porch steps before enveloping her mom in a bone crushing hug, not caring about the water that spilled down her chest, "I missed you."

"I…uhm…missed you too, Quinnie."

Slowly, Quinn pulled back from her mother's arms and smiled bashfully, "I'm gonna go wash up and get to bed, I'm exhausted."

"Of course," Judy watched her daughter climb the steps and disappear upstairs before smiling, "Things seem to be getting back to normal,"

* * *

><p>Things seemed to have been getting better, and the next day as she drove to school, she was in such a good mood even Coach Sylvester's suicides couldn't ruin it.<p>

The blonde didn't hear that freaky voice anymore, the PAD didn't make a sound or glow eerily anymore, and she wasn't murdered in her sleep. Her whole ordeal was over, and she couldn't have felt better.

She pulled into the only available spot in the McKinley car park, not really caring if it was longer trip to the school doors. She was already running late, thanks to sleeping right through her alarm – but she felt revitalized, and gently jogged to the main entrance.

"Quinn!"

She stopped in her tracks and looked around, slowly locking eyes with doe brown. "Berry." She acknowledged with no malice in her voice.

"Hi," Rachel smiled, coming to a stop in front of Quinn. The blonde took in her rival's clothes – she didn't look…completely horrible today; a blue polkadot dress, white cardigan and Mary Jane's; as long as it wasn't that dawn owl sweater that made her want to kill something.

"Was there something you needed…?"

"Oh!" Rachel smiled and reached into her bag, "I was going to be staying late tonight for practice, you know…for Glee Club and I was wondering…if you'd like to stay too? I already asked Finn but he'd rather go home and play on his video games…"

"I have practice."

"Oh…" The diva's hand unclenched around the sheet music she had in her bag and sighed, "Well…that can't be helped." Rachel shrugged and pulled her hand from her bag, "I guess I'll just practice by myself."

Quinn just nodded slowly, lips pursed.

"Well…I'll see you in Glee."

"Yeah, see you later Berry."

Quinn watched Rachel walk away, but refused to acknowledge the way Rachel's shoulder hunched as she walked.

* * *

><p>"You're being sloppy! Why oh why do I deserve this?" Sue Sylvester screamed through her megaphone, "Please answer me this! Why are you being so horribly bad that I want to wretch my eyeballs out with a blunt object?"<p>

Quinn sighed and crossed her arms over her chest; really, the squad were actually pretty good today. Sure, there were some slip ups, but it wasn't called 'practice' for nothing.

"Hit the showers you pathetic excuses for athletes!"

Santana rolled her eyes and walked along side Quinn as they headed toward the showers, "So how was the walk home?"

Quinn decided to ignore the tone of ignorance in her second in command's voice, "Just peachy, thank you." Except for being killed three times. "How was your time with Brittany?"

"Good," Santana smirked, the familiar gleam in her eye, "Damn good."

"So have you told her you love her yet?"

"Shut it, Fabray. Or do you want me to tell coach that you went all skinny bitch on me yesterday and fainted? I don't think she'd be too happy with that."

Quinn chuckled, "S…you can't ruin my good mood today, you just can't."

"Why…? Did you get laid?"

The blonde stopped and turned to regard her friend, "What?"

The Latina shrugged her shoulders, "Maybe you finally let Sam into your triple locked panties."

Quinn glared, "No. I haven't slept with Sam." She turned and continued her walk to the gymnasium.

Santana followed, a little bit slower than before, "You got into Emily's pants then?"

The blonde's back straightened, and she turned to regard her second in command with a warning in her eyes, "Say again?"

"Oh come on, Q…everyone knows you're totally into women. Even B's noticed."

"I'm not into women."

"Then why haven't you let Big Lips gain entry to your wonder down under?"

"…Maybe because the last time I had sex, I got pregnant?"

Santana chuckled, "Whatever, Q. I see the way you look at the ladies…" Santana checked her as she passed, walking with her hips more predominantly as she walked, "For example, you're checkin' out my ass like there's no tomorrow."

Quinn's eyes snapped up, "Whatever, S. You're delusional."

"I'm like fuckin' Yoda, I know everything."

"GET AWAY!" Coach Sylvester's voice broke the two girl's conversation, and with a quick glance at one another, they ran toward the disturbance. The whole cheerleading squad was stood in front of the gymnasium, Coach Sue holding them back as far as she could, "DON'T MOVE."

The whole gymnasium was on fire, and Santana looked up, eyes wide with shock, "Holy shit."

_No…no…this can't be happening…_

"Brittany's in there, Coach!" One cheerleader shouted, trying in vain to get her Coach's attention.

"B!" Santana ran forward, throwing herself into the group of cheerleaders before being held back by Sue, who clamped her strong arms around the Latina's middle, only just managing to hold her in its grip. "Get the fuck off of me, Britt's in there!"

Quinn stood stock still behind the large group, and as more and more students and teacher's joined the groups, many whispering among themselves, others filming the damn fire on their cell phones, Quinn felt an overcoming urge to find her friend.

The fire was raging, and windows were bursting from the heat inside.

_I…I can't…can I?_

"Has anyone called the fire service…?" One teacher shouted, a teacher from the English department.

"Yeah, but they're miles away, that girl will be dead before they even get here!"

With a burst of energy, Quinn rushed forward, pushing her way through the crowd as fast as she could without causing injury. She swore she heard Sam's voice behind her, and his arm trying to clasp the back of her cheerleading top, but she ripped herself away, shoving past Coach Sylvester and a still struggling Santana before making a mad dash for the burning building.

"Quinn!" A mix between Sam, Puck and Rachel all screamed her name, but the voices died as the roaring of flames engulfed her ears. She kicked the door down and rushed in, covering her mouth with the palm of her hand.

It was futile, the smoke was too thick and it stuck to the back of her throat. She felt the urge to cough and take a deep breath, but instead she held her breath and ploughed on, ignoring the stinging sensation in the back of her eyes.

She heard a whine over the collapse of part of the ceiling and snapped her head to the side, letting go of the breath she was holding, "B?" She stumbled forward, tripping up over a piece of debris, "Brittany?"

"Q-Quinn! Over here!"

She tried to find her, and she followed her voice as best she could, but she ended up getting lost in the thick fog of smoke. She coughed heavily, her chest feeling tight. She fell to her knees and wiped the tears from her cheeks, the smoke enveloping the whole of her body.

_No…it's not over!_

* * *

><p><strong>"You're incredibly bold. You thought your ordeal was over, but taking away one problem doesn't mean you've gotten rid of it completely. You must tear out the root, then and only then, will the attempts on your life end."<strong>

Quinn panted from her seat on the floor, enjoying the clean, albeit stale air, "I-I thought it was over."

**"You must destroy the root of the problem. Until then, the attempts on your life will continue."**

"How do I do that…?"

**"I cannot give you the answers, simply because, I do not know them myself. Find the root of the problem, and destroy it before it destroys you."**

With a cough, Quinn rose to her feet, "Fine. But…that means that someone really is out to kill me. I thought it was just a random attack?"

**"As I said before Quinn, you're special. You're not being targeted randomly, you're killer is methodical."**

"So…the fire…?"

**"Was set by your assailant. Catch him in the act."**

"How…?"

**"The PAD."**

Quinn smiled bitterly to herself, "I couldn't save B. But this time, I will, and I'll catch that sneaky bastard while I'm at it."


	4. Chapter 3

The sense of normality that usually surrounded Quinn was no longer there. After being transported back through the void, she found herself in the position she was in at least twenty minutes before the end of Cheerio's practice.

Coach Sylvester was stood below them, evaluating their hold in the infamous Pyramid. The Cheerio's coach scanned them with eagle eyes, tapping one Cheerio's knee when it seemed to twitch under her scrutiny.

Quinn sighed; she was stuck at the top, naturally, her right foot digging uncomfortably into Santana's shoulder. It would normally have been Brittany's but the blonde Cheerio had decided that she wanted to show up late to two different practices, and the Coach had seen red, banishing her from practice to deal with laundry duty in the gym.

"Gym…" The head cheerleader's eyes went wide; she'd been pushed into this time via the void to get Brittany out of the gym, thus saving her own life in the process. She was about to open her mouth and ask Coach Sylvester if she could be excused when the woman in question brandished her megaphone and screamed into it.

"You're sloppy! You're sloppy babies! What have I done in my life to deserve such pathetic cheerleaders? I have every right to ship you off to the Deep South and banish you forever!"

The slander rolled off Quinn's back like second nature. She'd dealt with Coach's taunts since freshman year, and although back then, she was terrified of the woman, now that she was a sophomore she could care less.

"Stay in the pyramid, and I swear, if I notice at least one muscle has moved while I've been gone, I'll have you all polishing each and every one of my trophies!" Sylvester slowly took a step back, narrowing her eyes and glaring at one cheerleader who twitched her nose to fight off an itch, before turning on her heel and powerwalking off the field.

"I need to go," Quinn muttered to Santana below, somehow thinking that Coach Sylvester would hear her otherwise.

Santana looked up, eyes narrowed with pain; although an athlete, even she wasn't used to holding a Pyramid for so long

"What? Why the hell do you get to go and I don't?"

"I just," The whirring sound of the PAD drew her attention to the side of the field. Her gym bag lay amongst the other cheerio's, and the device sat tantalizingly close to the open zipper. She saw the glowing, even if it was a light glow, and the sound grated in head like she was getting a migraine.

She thought she saw a flash of blonde around the corner from the football field, and realized it was probably Brittany going toward the gym.

"Just what...? You might be the Captain, but you don't get all the fuckin' privileges, Q. B's one of her best cheerleader's and she was banished with laundry duty, don't think she won't do the same to you."

"Coach can bite me,"

Quinn could have laughed at how wide Santana's eyes went; she wasn't used to the blonde Captain speaking out about their coach. The Latina always thought of Quinn as a mini Sue Sylvester, an aspiring Coach who was ruthless and cunning when it came to cheerleading. But this…this just made her laugh.

Her chuckles shook the cheerio's below her, and after some whines and moans, she stopped, "Quit your whining, you morons!" Her head snapped back up to Quinn, "You better hurry your ass then, I'll warn you if Coach comes back."

"Thanks S."

"Anything to get your fat ass off my shoulders, Tubbers,"

Normally, Quinn would have stepped down the level of cheerleaders on at a time, but the whirring sound in her head was turning into a heavy throb, and the thought of taking any semblance of care flew straight out of her head when her balance suddenly went.

Taking one giant leap, she jumped to the ground, narrowly avoiding landing on her knees; her years of training in both gymnastics and cheerleading coming into fruition when she landed perfectly on the soles of her Nike runners.

"Q, Coach is back."

Quinn's head snapped up to Santana, half wondering if she was taking the piss, but when she heard her Coach's voice ring loudly through a megaphone, she knew she'd landed in it big time. The throbbing in her head, matched with the screeching voice of her Coach made her want to dig a hole in the field and just lay in it.

"Q! I told you not to move from your position, what are you doing?"

Sylvester came to a stop right in front of Quinn, megaphone pressed right up against the blonde's nose.

"Coach, I just needed to get something from my bag."

The glowing was increasing exponentially, and it was a shock that no one had even noticed it. But then again, the cheerleader's behind her were in a great deal of pain handling everyone's body weight, especially the ones at the bottom of the pyramid.

"I told you not to move. What did I say would happen if you moved?"

Quinn sighed heavily; she honestly didn't have time for this. Ten minutes had already passed, and if her calculations were correct (actually, no calculations, it was mere guess work where this whole situation was concerned) she'd already thrown away ten minutes by standing on top of the pyramid and arguing.

"I'd be banished with laundry duty,"

Suddenly her eyes went wide; she'd be put on laundry duty…in the gym.

"I think I should go now…help Brittany with the laundry."

"Yes you should," The megaphone was dropped from Quinn's face, "Get your bag and get going, I honestly don't have time to deal with you and your problem with dealing with commands."

Quinn nodded meekly and raised her hand in silent gesture to Santana before pounding her way over to the side-line. She reached her bag quickly, and as her hand dove in to grab the PAD, she felt a certain sense of euphoria rush through her body. She was going to save Brittany.

The PAD, however, had other ideas. The glowing had seemingly stopped, and the readout that usually showed, giving her the time she was supposed to travel to, had disappeared too. She flipped it over in her hands, running deft fingers over the smooth surface. It wasn't working – had it broke?

She shut her eyes and focused on the PAD, anything, that would get the damn thing to work. "This," She opened her eyes and focused on the object in my hands, "Is so not my day."

"Q! Get your ass to the gym!"

She jumped from where she stood and stuffed the inactive PAD into her gym bag before shouldering it, "Sorry, Coach." Dejected, a little run down and incredibly pissed off, she stomped toward the gym, kicking random pebbles that she came across on her path.

She was half way to the gym when she smelt it. She tilted her face toward the sky and sniffed long and hard – a harsh corroding smell, mixed with – what was that? Gas…?

"Fire," She whispered, eyes wide, dropping to look at the building that sat seemingly safe around the corner,

"Oh crap. BRITTANY!"

She dropped her bag, the unnecessary weight slowing her down. She made it around the corner in record time, and landed eyes on the gym. She'd got here early, and the fire didn't look as bad as it did before; the windows weren't popping out from the heat, but the smoke was flooding from under the closed doors and she could certainly hear the roar of flames from within the building.

"B!" The doors were sealed shut, and when she tried to open it, the metal of the door burnt her hand. She cried out and jumped back, cradling her scolded hand by the wrist. She tried to flex it, but each time she did a sharp stab of pain shot up the whole of her arm.

_I need to get in there…Oh Lord, what do I do…?_

At first she felt like dropping to her knees and begging to God that he save Brittany from the fire, to save herself from being killed again. Why did she deserve this? Why was she the one that was being targeted, along with her friends? Why had the PAD stopped working when it should have been helping her save Brittany and herself?

With a scream of rage, she ran forward, booting at the door with the heel of her foot. She was strong, that much was sure, but when the door didn't budge, she couldn't help but cry out in frustration.

The smell of smoke had attracted students and teachers from nearby buildings, and as they rushed toward her, she continued to slam her foot hard into the door. "Open! God, open!"

Arms wrapped tight around her waist, and she felt herself be pulled back. She turned around to scream, but when she came face to face with Sam she crumbled and collapsed into his arms. The blonde boy wrapped his arms around his girlfriend and kissed the top of her head gently, "Why are you crying?"

"B-Brittany's in there!"

Sam pulled back, almost as if he'd been burnt and stared into his girlfriend's watering hazel eyes, "Are you sure?"

Quinn only nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"I have to go in there…" Sam walked around the cheerleader and went for the door, ignoring the protests of nearby teachers and began ramming his shoulder into the door. It hurt, and Quinn could tell he was in pain, but when the door finally slammed open with a heavy thud, she saw her chance.

She ran forward, hand grazing her boyfriend's elbow, "Stay here!"

Sam protested, trying to grab her by the back of her Cheerio's uniform as she ran past, but she dodged him, barely, feeling the tips of his fingers brush against her back. She ran into the burning building, coughing and spluttering, feeling the strange sense of deja-vu wash over her.

She knew where Brittany was, she knew that from the last time, but the smoke was more acrid this time. It seemed to be burning her eyes right out their sockets, and when she went to wipe away the tears that fell to her dusty, pale cheeks, she collapsed to the floor after falling over a piece of debris on the floor.

At least, she thought it was.

Brittany lay below her, the telling signs of blonde hair and a ratty, tattered Cheerio's uniform shining through the blanket of smoke. "B!" She coughed out, shaking her best friend with her one remaining good hand.

The blonde didn't stir, and when Quinn went to shout again, she ended up just coughing; the smoke making its way deep into her lungs. She felt exhaustion wash over her, body failing with each and every breath.

So with a determination she didn't know she had, she stood shakily, grabbed Brittany by her arms and pulled as hard as she could.

"You're not dying this time, B!" Quinn coughed out, "You're not!"

Her strength was failing, and although Brittany was relatively small in weight, the urge to just stop and rest was becoming too much to think over. But the fire grew rapidly around her, the smoke throwing out cloud fumes around her and her friend.

Brittany stirred lightly below her, and for a second she stopped, before continuing to drag, "B!"

"Q-Q-Quinn…?" The young blonde coughed out heavily, hands clenching against Quinn's wrists.

"Can you get up?"

"I-I think so…"

"Get up, run for the door, now!"

The creaking above her had her worried, and if she continued to drag her friend, she knew she wouldn't make it out on time. And when Brittany stood up, shakily, holding Quinn's shoulder's for support, Quinn felt a sense of doom wash over her.

"Go!" The Cheerio Captain pushed Brittany toward the door, following closely behind in case she got lost in the smoke.

"I'm scared…" She heard a whisper, but over the rumbling of the roof above her, she couldn't be sure.

"Run! Now!" Quinn's head snapped up to the ceiling, the heat of the fire causing it to crack in all the wrong places, "NOW!"

With a sharp push to Brittany's back, she pushed her cleanly toward where she remembered the door being. And through the screams outside, both of Brittany's and then Quinn's name, Quinn watched as the ceiling fell from above her.

* * *

><p><strong>"You truly are a good friend."<strong>

"Didn't stop me from dying though did it?" Quinn sighed and stood to her feet, "Do you actually know how much it hurts to feel your death over and over again? Are you actually aware? Why didn't you get the PAD to work?"

The blonde was frustrated with the almost condescending voice; if the PAD had worked, she wouldn't have died again. And the feeling of that ceiling collapsing on top of her had her shivering inside and out.

**"You missed the time index. The PAD will only work when the time is available."**

"What? So if I don't use it as soon as it glows, I can't use it at all?"

**"Bingo."**

With a heavy sigh, Quinn walked toward the doors, "Fine. Send me back, I'll try again."

**"I must warn you, Quinn. When the PAD signifies that it's time to leave the time you have travelled to, you must come back immediately, otherwise, you will be stuck in that time."**

Quinn dropped her chin to her chest and took one deep breath – everything was just getting more confusing and frustrating.

"Fine. Send me back."

* * *

><p>"You're sloppy! You're sloppy babies! What have I done in my life to deserve such pathetic cheerleaders? I have every right to ship you off to the Deep South and banish you forever!"<p>

"Coach! I have to go!"

Coach Sylvester stared up at her head cheerleader and frowned, "And why is that, Q?"

"I just… I don't feel well; I think I have to go to the nurse." She swayed on the top level of the pyramid for good measure, "I think I'm going to throw up."

"No…you're staying."

With a groan, Quinn continued, "Please, Coach!"

Sue's eyes blazed with an untapped anger, and when Quinn challenged her stare with one of her own, the cheerleading coach relented admirably.

"Well, I can't be having you puking all over my cheerio's, Fabray." She heard Santana giggle slightly from below her – and somehow Quinn thought she thinking about cereal, "Go, now, before I change my mind."

She didn't take the levels, and just like before, she jumped, narrowly avoiding her coach in the process.

Quinn didn't bother to stay and get reprimanded for nearly injuring herself; instead she ran toward her gym bag and dived for the PAD.

It was glowing, and the read-out on the device showed that she would be taken ten minutes into the…future?

With furrowed eyebrows, she clutched the PAD in one hand, grabbed her gym bag and ran off the field, hiding around a corner, away from the prying eyes of anyone that may pass. Shutting her eyes tight, she focused on the PAD, and whispered in her mind trust it

Eventually, she felt herself engulfed in the bright blue light, the swill of electricity around her, before she was sucked into the void.

She was still tucked around the corner that she'd hidden in, and honestly, nothing looking different. She glanced around the corner, looking out onto the football field to check that the Cheerio's were still there.

The blonde fell back onto her backside, mouth agape as she looked to the field. There she was, stood at the top of the pyramid, talking to Santana, while the other cheerio's groaned and winced in pain.

"Wow…holy cr-," With a gulp she got to her feet, shaking her head to rid herself of the haunting image of seeing two of herself. "I have a job to do,"

Muttering to herself, she spun on her heels and ran toward the gym, making sure the PAD was tucked safely between her cheerio's skirt. The edges of the device dug harshly into her skin, but she relished in it – it meant she was alive, the pain.

She came to a halt in front of the gym, and everything looked normal. With a deep sigh of relief, she realized she'd made it to the right time. "Thank God."

"Q?" Coach Sylvester left the gym and stared at her, "Aren't you supposed to be on top of that pyramid? Did I say you could move?"

"I just…uh…" She snapped her head toward the field, if the coach went back, she'd see that she was still there. That would be a paradox, right? Would she die again or something? Would there be two Quinn's in one timeline? The thought made her shudder with fright.

"Forget it," The Coach began pushing her toward the field, "I want you back on top of that pyramid."

"But I uh…I'm feeling ill and I wanted to go the nurse. I didn't think you'd appreciate me throwing up on your Cheerio's fresh uniforms. I'd rather throw up with dignity."

Sylvester stopped pushing her cheerleading Captain and looked down at her through narrowed eyes, "Fine. But get back here, pronto."

"Thanks, oh and Coach, I might not be able to make it to Cheerio's practice tomorrow night. I think Mr. Schue wants me to stay behind to practice my solo for Glee."

She had no solo, and no lesson, but when she saw Sylvester's face light up with rage, she knew she'd avoided the paradox. Quinn disappeared around the corner, and waited until her coach had rushed toward the main building, obviously to confront her arch-nemesis.

With a sigh, she popped back out and rushed into the gym. Things still looked normal, and Brittany stood on one of the bleachers, trying, but failing to fold a skirt.

"Quinn!" Brittany beamed and dropped the skirt before bouncing down each level of the bleachers and jumping into the blonde's arms.

"Hey, B," She pulled back and smiled, "You're okay?"

Brittany's head cocked adorably, "Yeah, why? Should I be sick or something?"

"Oh no, not at all," The Captain smiled and then frowned, "Have you seen anyone acting shifty in here lately?"

"Shifty…?" Brittany looked confused, "No…not really."

"Are you sure? Anyone at all…? Someone you didn't recognize or someone that you did?"

"Coach was in here for like…two seconds just to say my folding technique was less than…" Her brows furrowed, "Passable, but I didn't get it because isn't passing what you do in tests?"

Quinn couldn't help but laugh, just hearing her friend's voice happy and healthy, albeit a little confused, was magic to her ears. "Well I'm taking over, so go back to practice. I'll meet you out there when I'm done."

"Really…?"

"Really,"

Brittany clapped her hands together and jumped back into Quinn's arm, rocking her back and forth before planting a quick kiss on the blonde's forehead.

"Bye, Quinn!" And then she rushed out of the gym.

Quinn waited several seconds before straightening her shoulder, "Where did that fire start…?" She wished she could have known, but by the time she always arrived, the building was already engulfed and the smoke was too thick to see through.

Slowly, she wandered through the gym, taking in each and every bleacher to see if someone had left a cigarette burning beneath the seats. Many students had been excluded due to smoking on school property, and most of them now did it in the school gymnasium because it was a little out of ways from the rest of school.

It was only natural Quinn thought that the cause was accidental, but the voice told her that her assailant did it. Her killer planned it out; to make sure she went in and got trapped.

_Where do I even begin…?_

**"Maybe you should try the laundry room – lots of flammable objects in there, correct?"**

The laundry room, a relatively small room right at the back of the gym was usually out of bounds to students, and was rarely used – Coach Sylvester's love of European dry cleaners pretty well known amongst the school and Principal Figgins wallet.

The door was shut, as it always was, but as she walked toward the door, she felt the heat. Carefully, with the hand she'd burnt before but now had been completely healed, she pushed open the door and took a quick step back.

It was small, but in the corner of the room sat a folded pile of uniforms and towels, a small fire was beginning to form. Quickly, without thinking twice, she ran over to it and stamped on the pile, making sure not to spread it as she doused the fire with her feet and a nearby towel from a high up shelf.

The smoke made her cough, but it wasn't half as bad as what it could have been – she knew that for a fact.

With the fire put out, she stepped back and collapsed against the wall behind her, bringing her knees up to her chest and clutching it.

"It's over," She dropped her head to her knees and took one long breath, trying to slow down the pounding of her heart. And although she wanted to believe the words as they came from her mouth, she couldn't help but feel it was only just beginning.

* * *

><p>"Hey babe," Sam plonked himself beside his girlfriend and kissed her on the cheek, "You okay?"<p>

Quinn smiled and nodded, "I'm fine Sam, I'm just thinking too much."

He pouted, and Quinn couldn't help but notice how big his lips really were…and how much chapstick he put on.

"Want to talk about it…?"

"No…no," It's not like the boy would understand what she was going through; he'd either think she was going insane or she was making it up to confuse him. She just wish she could confide in someone about what was going on, someone who would just sit and listen to everything she had to say, "It's fine…"

He was about to add something, but when Quinn looked away, he shut his mouth. She felt his hand take hers, and she allowed it as she scanned the choir room. Most of the members of New Directions were already there – Mercedes and Tina were sat right at the back with Mike, Brittany was on Artie's lap, Santana had yet to show, Lauren and Puck were sat side by side, him whispering something in her ear that made Lauren raise a hand and shove and cookie into her mouth.

And then there was Finn and Rachel.

Finn had his arm wrapped around his girlfriend's shoulder, leaning down and whispering into her ear. Rachel was giggling, her hand raised to clasp the one that brushed against her shoulder blade. Quinn didn't understand the feeling that hit her stomach, or why it stayed there when she watched the happy couple, but when Rachel kissed Finn, slowly, and with tongue, she had to look away.

"Are you okay? Seriously…?"

Suddenly, Sam's voice was beginning to grate on her.

"I'm fine."

He shut his mouth for the rest of Glee.

How could she forget the PAD? Honestly? The one thing she needed to actually keep her alive and she'd left it in the choir room? She'd walked Brittany to her car after Glee and after a few light questions from her friend about where Santana was, she watched her drive off.

She had been about to get into her car when she realized the PAD had disappeared from her bag.

Trekking back to the choir room, she was about to open the door when she heard muffled voices from the other side. She didn't want to intrude, but the thought of someone coming across the outer-world device made her antsy.

"Don't you think we should…be kinda taking the next step?"

Finn's voice, and suddenly, Quinn felt the urge to listen in. Pressing her ear against the door, she listened in.

"Finn, I told you, I'm not ready."

"We've been dating for almost six months, Rach."

"I'm not ready," Rachel's melodic, yet low voice made Quinn shiver, "Please respect that Finn, I don't want to be pushed into making a life changing decision."

"It's just…I don't want to wait until I'm 25 to do it, y'know?"

Quinn scoffed lightly; Finn could be such an asshole. What she saw in him, she would never know. Back before he'd had sex with Santana, he was a sweet guy to be around, maybe a little slow…and dumb…but nice. He cared for her, opened doors for her, drove her home, and took her on dates. But now, he just seemed like every other guy; obsessed with sex.

A Puck number two.

"Well I'm sorry if I want to wait that long, Finn. But honestly, my dedication to Broadway and the stardom that I will naturally accumulate when I move to New York comes well ahead of losing my virginity."

"What…so Broadway comes before me?"

"I didn't say that; you're putting words in my mouth."

"No I'm not. Tell me the truth; would you rather have me or Broadway?"

"Are you honestly making me choose, Finn? This is completely ridiculous, you know I love you."

"Then choose, right now."

When Quinn heard Rachel splutter for a response, she knew it was time to invade on their privacy more than she already had. Pushing open the choir room door she walked in, taking in Finn who stood by the piano, which Rachel was sat at, with his arms crossed tightly across is chest.

"Quinn?" Rachel swirled on the piano bench to look up at the blonde, "Is something the matter?"

Finn just scoffed and grabbed his bag, "I'll call you later." He just nodded shyly at Quinn as he left the room, it took all the power she had not to glare at him.

"Are you okay…?"

Rachel seemed shocked at the question – Quinn Fabray, HBIC, asking Rachel Berry, resident loser of McKinley High if she was okay?

"I…I'm…fine, thank you very much for asking, Quinn."

The blonde nodded and glanced over to the chairs that still hadn't been stacked; her PAD lay underneath her seat, obviously where it had fallen out of her gym bag. She grabbed it and tucked it into her letterman jacket.

"Is that the charger for your phone?"

Quinn turned and regarded Rachel who looked up at her with shining eyes, "Oh…yeah, it just dropped out of my bag."

Rachel nodded, blushed and then looked to the piano, "I was…just going to practice.

"Oh, yeah," Quinn stuffed her hands into her jacket, making sure her hand clutched the PAD so it didn't drop out, "Well, sorry to disturb you."

"It's quite alright," Rachel smiled up at her, "That offer to practice with me is still open."

It was weird, looking into Rachel's doe brown eyes; she didn't see the pain that she'd inflicted on the girl over all those years. Those were the eyes of someone that looked up to someone else; a friendly, warm look that made you want to stay. There was no pain, no torture behind those eyes, and for once, Quinn felt an almighty sense of guilt wash over her.

How could she be cruel to someone who was so kind and generous? Maybe a little annoying, and talked a lot, and didn't know when to shut up, or known her boundaries…but still, sweet.

"Actually, ye-,"

"Q! Breadstix, I'm buying, come on."

Santana appeared from nowhere at the choir room door, and for once in her life Quinn felt like launching herself at the Latina for intruding on her and Rachel.

The diva in question stood from the piano and pushed her hands onto her hips, "It's incredibly rude to intrude on someone's conversation, Santana. You should have acknowledged your presence with a little more thought into Quinn and myself."

"Shut it, Hobbit." Santana didn't even spare a glance, still staring at Quinn, "Hurry up, I be hungry for Breadstix."

The blonde sighed, and nodded, watching as Santana disappeared away from the door.

"How rude," Rachel plonked herself back down onto the bench and ran her fingertips over the keys of the piano, pressing down on the C.

"Yeah…uhm…I'm just gonna get going."

Rachel looked up, the look of wonder from her eyes gone, "Of course. I'll see you tomorrow, Quinn."

It actually hurt to leave the room.


	5. Chapter 4

Quinn Fabray couldn't understand why she wanted to smash Santana Lopez's head against the steering wheel of her car, or why the urge to do so made something inside her tingle with pleasure.

They were on their way to Breadstix, Santana in the driving seat, and Quinn had only just begun to calm down after her second in command and 'best friend' intruded in on her and Rachel's small 'moment'. It wasn't as if she wanted to be in the same room as Rachel, but she knew how the diva was feeling. Puck had pressured her into having sex – nine months later, she had given birth to his child after all. But that was her fault, and she should have really made sure he'd put on that allusive condom, but could Rachel really take care of herself when it came to sex?

From the vibe she'd gotten, it was obvious that the diva could take care of everything in her life, from her school work to her personal – or lack of- life, she seemed to have things hands down; but she was still a little, in the dark, when it came to relationships.

Quinn had been going to school with Rachel right from the beginning – she still remembered the bright grin of Rachel Berry as she strode into the kindergarten class, both hands clasped in her father's. In the time that she'd known Rachel, Quinn had never once seen her with a boyfriend.

Of course, she'd heard in Glee when she was still dating Finn that Rachel was much too busy focusing on her Broadway dream then to date boys. The fact she dated Finn straight after he'd given her the boot was just a point in the negative. Rachel Berry was an enigma…an annoyingly frustrating enigma.

"Yo, earth to Fabray."

Quinn snapped from her daydream and pried her eyes away from the passenger window, glancing over at the Latina lazily, "Yes…?"

"Did you hear anything I just said?"

"No, not really, sorry, go on."

When Santana groaned and rolled her eyes, Quinn ignored her, waiting for what she had to say next.

"I wanted your opinion on Brittany, you know…I don't need help with this sorta stuff, I mean, I am the hottest piece of ass at McKinley…"

Quinn eye's rolled so hard it was a shock they didn't roll from their sockets.

"But B's a special case – I need things to be right between the two of us."

"I don't even know why you two fell out in the first place, why did she run to Artie of all people…?"

She watched with eager eyes when the Latina's hands clenched painfully onto the steering wheel. Ah, so it was her fault. Santana had done something, what it was Quinn didn't know, yet, but it was something so bad that Brittany, who adored Santana, had literally jumped sides. But what shocked her more was the fact that something could affect the Latina so much. Santana liked to give off the impression that nothing could faze her – that she could take on anyone, and anything. But when it came to Brittany Pierce, she couldn't, it seemed.

"It was when Puck was in juvie."

"Right…?"

"We were making out, and I kinda told her she was only a warm body until Puck got back."

Quinn couldn't fight back the cringe, and she knew Santana had seen her from the corner of her eye, "I know! Look, I don't know why I said it; it was just like fuckin' word vomit. I couldn't stop myself."

"B may be a little slow, but that was cruel, S."

The Latina sighed in defeat, "I know…I know."

The way Santana admitted her defeat, made Quinn want to hug her. It was strange, but at that moment, sat in the car with her best friend, she'd never felt so close – like the competition for head cheerleader and the bitchiness was so far behind in the past it could hardly be remembered; they were the best friend's they been before high school started.

"Look, I'll help you out – not like you deserve it, though."

"What do you mean by that, Juno?"

"That!" Quinn pointed dangerously close to Santana's eye, "That right there it why you don't deserve it. I gave birth to…Beth, ages ago. I've lost the baby weight, so why do you still insist on calling me Juno? Or Tubbers…?"

Santana shrugged, "Just stuck."

The air in the car was silent, and so that was the end of the conversation for the rest of the journey. Breadstix wasn't far away, and Quinn couldn't help but count down the streets until they pulled up at the Latina's (and half of Lima's) favourite restaurant.

They settled into a parking spot nearest the door. Santana turned the engine off, and Quinn made to get out of the door before she felt a warm, almost sweaty, hand clasp her wrist. "Look…I'm not into this soppy shit, alright? But…thanks for helping me out, okay? I wasn't doing anything remotely active on my lonesome."

Quinn smiled, "It's fine, honestly. And if I get a dinner out of it, what's bad about that?"

Santana smirked, "Yeah, only cos I'm payin' fatty."

"That's _got_ to stop."

* * *

><p>"Maybe I should complain, get another meal out of 'em."<p>

Quinn had only just gotten through half of her meal by the time Santana had gone through all of her's. Only two lone pieces of spaghetti sat dejected in a now cold tomato sauce, and for some reason, the blonde thought it looked like two worms.

"Don't you think that's a bit cruel? I thought you were trying to change your ways, S?"

Santana's eyes glazed over, "Oh please," She rose her hand high and clicked annoyingly at a nearby waiter, "I'm not changing all my ways, I'm still Santana _Fucking_ Lopez."

"Yes…?"

Santana sat back in her seat and glared up at the waiter with disinterest, "Excuse me, this meal was completely unsatisfactory. I demand to see your manager."

"Uh…well," The waiter glanced over his shoulder, "Do you have to? I mean, I would go get him…but uh…I'm kinda on probation at the moment, and if I have another mess up, I'll get fired."

"Allow me to go get my violin."

"Uh…?"

Quinn sighed and toyed with the melted cheese on her lasagne; suddenly she didn't feel so hungry anymore. It wasn't because the food was bad, because damn, it was Breadstix, but the thought of eating anything was the furthest from her mind.

Santana was just staring at the waiter while he sprouted off excuses about why he couldn't get his manager – apparently two days before he'd tripped up on a chair leg and dumped a plate of piping hot chicken on a customer's lap, and his boss had told him if he had one more slip up, he'd be gone.

Quinn felt like defending the poor guy, he couldn't have been that much older than her or Santana, and he honestly looked like he was going to cry when Santana continued to demand the attention of the manager.

"Okay! Okay…uhm…how about I get you another plate and the meal with my compliments…?"

Santana's brow slowly crept up, "And free refills for me and my friend here…?" Her hand waved toward Quinn before dropped to the table unceremoniously.

"O-Of course."

"Excellent. Now shoo."

The waiter picked up the Latina's dish with shaking hand, nodded and then scuttled away back toward the kitchen. Santana looked smug as hell, leaning back her chair, staring down at her fingernails.

"You do realize he can't give the meal away for free? It will come out of his pay check?"

"Oh well," The Latina's said through a sigh, looking up toward Quinn, "Right, and now back onto B."

Quinn wiped at her forehead, pushing her bangs out of her eyes, "Okay well, first up, you need to apologize to her."

"Fine, done." Santana whipped out her phone and Quinn's eyes grew wide with shock before slamming her hand down, flipping the phone shut, "Damn, what?"

"You have to say it to her face, idiot. It's pathetic doing it over the phone."

Santana groaned, "Fine." And pocketed her phone again before crossing her arms over her chest like a defiant child. "Apologize, right, go on."

"Okay and after that you need to…uh…"

"I have all day, Q."

"You need…to take her out on a proper date, not one of your make out sessions. Do…something out of the bedroom."

Quinn dropped her forehead into her hand and sighed, "Have they turned up the heat in here or something?"

"What?" Suddenly Santana's voice sounded distant, almost like the Latina wasn't even in the same room as her, "No, why?"

"I just…feel really hot is all…" Quinn grabbed for her water and gulped the cold drink down, mourning the loss of the cold when the water was all gone. She raised her hand and gestured to anyone, "More water, please."

"Are you alright? You're really pale."

Quinn tried to focus her eyes on Santana, and bit back a groan when she couldn't, "Honestly, it's nothing. Uh…where was I?"

"Date, take B on a date."

"Huh? Why would I want to take Brittany on a date?"

The Latina frowned, "I meant me, idiot. I take Brittany on a date, then what?"

"Oh…uh…" Quinn groaned and wrapped her arms around her stomach, "Damn…"

"Okay seriously, you're freaking me the fuck out."

"I'm not…" She ground out between clenched teeth, "doing this on purpose…"

"What? You're really ill?"

Quinn sighed with relief when the twisting in her abdomen stopped, and only a light burning sensation remained, "I have to get out of here…" The blonde glanced around the restaurant, trying to find anyone that seemed out of place, but the fact her eyes couldn't even focus made it difficult.

"What, we're not done!"

"I'm done…" Quinn stumbled to her feet, clutching onto the table for support as her vision fuzzed in and out. The room seemed to twist and turn and she could have sworn the people around her were sat on the roof.

She felt sick, and she could hear Santana behind her, calling for her, but she continued to stumble, bumping into a waitress on the way out, "Are you okay, ma'am?"

"F-Fine…" Quinn pushed her away, well, tried to, her arms felt like jelly and from what she could tell, she missed the waitress completely.

By sheer force, she made it to the front door, and collapsed against it. Gasping for breath, feeling the heat burn her body, the sickness in her stomach rising to her throat, her head feeling like it was going to explode.

"Q, wait the fuck up!" Santana appeared behind her, and in a desperate attempt to get away, Quinn kicked the door open, and as it opened she fell through the gap, collapsing to the floor. She knew she was dying – she couldn't let Santana see it.

The blonde tried to get up, clawing at the sidewalk with numb fingers, but it was useless. Her body refused to move, and she was finding it harder and harder to breathe. With each harsh intake of breath she took, her body stung with an unbelievable amount of pain. Tears sprung from her eyes as she writhed on the floor, arms clutched around herself.

She felt arm's wrap around her, and numbly she realized it was Santana. She heard her shouting at her, begging her to open her eyes, to stop screwing around. And when she lurched in Santana's arms and threw up onto the floor, some of it getting on the Latina's arm in the process, she knew she didn't have time left.

"PA…D…"

"What?"

"PAD…jacket…pocket…"

"Fuck, one second, it's still inside. Don't you dare faint on me, Fabray!"

She heard the stamping of footsteps, a door swing open and then shouting. The first voice belonged to Santana, but she didn't know the other voice.

"I wasn't running away!"

"You were 'dining and dashing' I believe the term is. Pay up."

"My friend is outside on the sidewalk! She's in a lot of pain right now and I need to get her jacket."

"She can wait for her jacket."

"You fucking ASSHOLE!"

Quinn's head thumped against the hard concrete of the floor, but she didn't feel the pain. Her stomach felt like it was on fire, her whole body locked in a circle of pain. She felt the bile rise back up from her throat, and fought to push it back, but she ended up throwing up again.

Weakly, she opened her eyes and caught sight of her vomit. But it wasn't sick. It was blood, pure blood.

"Holy, she's telling the truth boss!" She felt someone drop down beside her, and then the murmurs of passers-by, "Call an ambulance, anyone!"

She felt Santana's arms around her again, pushing the PAD into her hands, "What is it…?"

Quinn opened her eyes once more and looked down at the device in her hands. She couldn't move her fingers, but she didn't need to. The PAD wasn't glowing nor showing a read-out. She'd missed the time index.

As another shot of pain raced through her body, she cried out, vaguely aware of the blood that trailed from her mouth and down her chin.

And as her body quaked one last time, she swore she heard Santana cry.

* * *

><p><strong>"Someone really has it in for you, it seems."<strong>

Quinn shook from her seat on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees, "That…really hurt."

**"Pain is only temporary, death is permanent."**

Quinn felt like crying, and fought back the tears as she dropped her forehead to her knees, "I can't…go through that again," She sobbed, "I can't…"

**"Do not give up,"**

"That's…easy for you to say."

**"One day, this will all be a distant memory. Until then, you must fight for your survival."**

"Why did I die this time?"

There was a pregnant pause, **"You were poisoned."**

"It was in the food," Quinn sighed and raised her head, "Fine. I just won't eat it."

**"The time index you will return to…you will have already _eaten_ the food."**

"What?" Quinn rose to her feet, shocked by how strong her body felt, "Why can't I go back earlier?"

**"The void and the PAD will only react to phenomenon that is linked to you. Before you ate, there was no threat, the PAD did not react. After you ate, the PAD reacted."**

"Fine," Quinn walked toward the huge doors that would lead her back to the time before her death, but stopped on the threshold. "Wait."

"Yes…?"

"Why do you want me to survive so badly? I mean…people die every day, and they don't get this chance."

**"I told you, you're special Quinn Fabray."**

She felt like crying out in frustration, "Why me though? Why can't I just die…?"

The voice seemed to sigh, **"Your existence is vital. Only _your_ phenomenon reacts with a certain time."**

"Which one…?"

**"The Alchemist's time,"**

Quinn frowned, "I haven't met an Alchemist yet."

**"But you have met his daughter,"**

"Huh? Who…?"

**I believe her name is Mary."**

"Mary? But…she told me her parents were dead."

**"They were. In the time you travelled to. But years before, they were not."**

"Okay…but…what does that time have to do with me? Why am I so important?"

**"I will come see you, and tell you with time."**

"See me?"

**"Yes,"**

She opened her mouth to respond, but sighed instead, looking into the void, "Fine. I'll see you soon."

* * *

><p>"Okay! Okay…uhm…how about I get you another plate and the meal with my compliments…?"<p>

This whole, being alive again thing was becoming incredibly tiresome. It was shocking though, to say she'd only eaten a couple mouthfuls of lasagne and the poison could affect her that harshly. There didn't seem anything wrong with it – she'd almost dismantled it with her fork while listening to Santana complain to Peter the waiter.

But now, instead of continuing to fiddle, she dropped her fork and discreetly reached behind her and into her jacket pocket, pulling out the PAD that lay nestled safely inside. It wasn't glowing yet, which meant that it wasn't the right time. She'd felt the pain a few minutes after the waiter walked away – maybe it would glow then?

"Excellent. Now shoo."

The feeling of deja-vu was hard to get over – it felt as if she'd dreamt the whole 'dying' thing and she was now actually living it. She felt so disjointed from reality; that in itself was terrifying. Maybe that voice wasn't sending her back to her normal life – maybe it was playing with her, sending her into its own little universe where she was used as a toy. Maybe she was this 'being's' play thing now. Maybe she was just dead.

The low burning she felt at the bottom of her stomach came back with a vengeance. She'd felt this the first time, and really, she thought she just needed to iburp/i or something. Not that she'd belch in public. She wasn't _Sam_ after all.

"And that's how you get a free meal."

Quinn continued to stare down at the PAD in her lap, feeling the warmth of the poison begin to flow through her.

"Aren't you listening to me?"

"Oh, yeah, sure am." The blonde looked up and regarded the Latina before her. It was a shock, that they were even eating at the same table. Lately they'd become insufferable around each other – Quinn secretly couldn't stand Santana, and in a way, that showed at school, especially when the Latina decided she wanted to become a grade A bitch toward her. But after 'dying' all over again, and feeling Santana's arms wrap around her, and the tell-tale signs that she was crying, just made Quinn realize that Santana had a façade, one she was so used to putting on, that the real Santana was lost behind it.

"I'm glad you asked for my help, S."

"Uh, yeah, whatever. Anyway, what should I do with B?"

Quinn smiled, which turned into a cringe when the heat rose exponentially. She took an experimental gulp of her water, one eye still on the PAD. It wasn't fucking glowing.

"Apologize first."

"Done," Santana got up and reached for her jacket, "You can make your own way home, right?"

"Wait, what? Aren't you going to call her?" Something was different.

"No, that's just wrong. I mean, B might be a little slow, but even I'm not that stupid to apologize over the phone, Q."

"Uh…"

"What? You think I would?"

Quinn mumbled, "You did the first time."

"First time…?"

The blonde cringed, "Uh, sorry…I'm just mumbling." The pain in her stomach was _really_ fucking hurting now.

"No, go on." The Latina draped her letterman jacket over the back of her chair and plopped herself back down again into the seat, legs crossed, arms crossed defensively over her ample chest. "Enlighten me, Fabray."

Maybe she could tell…? Could she trust Santana with such a huge secret?

"Uh…well…"

"Spit it out or I'll make you regret not telling me."

Tell it was. Actually, Quinn could handle Santana, she'd known the girl for years, and knew exactly what the Latina's soft spots were; tell Mama Lopez what Santana had been doing at school and out of school.

"You tell anyone what I'm about to tell you, S…and I'll tell your mom about you and your 'sexual activities'."

The pain that seared in her gut was nothing compared to the glare that Santana sent her way. If the poison wouldn't kill her first, that damn stare would.

"Ay dios mio…FINE. I promise not to tell."

"Thank you," Quinn sighed, wiggling in her seat to fight off the pain, "Look I have to be quick because it's going to happen soon." She could already feel her blood boiling, "I keep being killed. I don't know who's doing it, or why, but I keep getting brought back from the dead and told to change my fate. I was given this," She threw the PAD haphazardly onto the table, watching as it slid and stopped at Santana's open hand, "It can make me travel in time. And I really need it to work right now, otherwise I'm going to die again…"

"What?" The Latina's voice sounded weak – she'd never heard it that weak or _helpless_ before.

"I've died here before, outside on the sidewalk. I threw up blood, someone had poisoned my food." Quinn groaned and bit her bottom lip, staring at Santana, "But the damn thing won't turn on…I'm dying here."

She expected it, of course she did. Santana burst out laughing, hands pushing the PAD back toward her and she felt herself deflate in her seat. She knew the Latina wouldn't believe her, it was stupid of her to think that she would.

"I believe you," The Latina wheezed through a laugh, before she sobered instantly, "My God, why do I believe you?"

Quinn's eyes widened, "You do?"

"No fuckin' clue why…but I can kind of tell you're not well. Are you sure you're just not going loco?"

"No, Santana. I'm not going crazy."

Santana leaned back in her seat, eyes glancing down to the PAD, "So that thing? It sends you back in time?"

Quinn nodded and groaned, her muscles ached like hell, "And forward sometimes, but not very far." She knocked her forehead down onto the table and fought back a cry of agony, her vision was starting to fuzz, "Oh God, why won't it work?"

Santana got up and dropped down to her knees beside the blonde's chair, "Look at me, Fabray."

The cheerleader fought to raise her head, and she only just managed it when Santana cupped her cheeks, "Do you have to do anything special to get it working?"

"No…"

"Are you sure? Think about it."

"No…it just…glows by itself."

Santana grabbed her by the arms and pulled her up. Quinn felt unbelievably weak, and when Santana went to touch her, she cried out in pain – her skin felt so sensitive that it hurt to touch. The Latina wrapped an arm around her shoulder, leaned over to the table and pocketed the PAD before heading toward the exit.

"Excuse me? Are you finished with your meal?" A podgy little man in his late fifties stood before them.

"Yeah, we're done." Santana made to move around him, but the man stopped her, "Look. I really need to leave, my friend is really fuckin' sick."

The manager's eyes flicked over to Quinn before back to the Latina, "I'm sorry, but you have to pay before you leave."

Quinn wretched and honestly she tried to fight it back, but it was too much, she threw up over the manager, her blood staining the crisp white of his shirt.

"Holy!"

"Told you, asshole!"

"Call an ambulance," The manager muttered to the waitress that stood behind him, "Get her outside, it'll cool her down."

"Was about to do that…" Santana groaned between clenched teeth, finding it harder to hold up Quinn's almost lifeless body, "Asshole…"

The manager held open the door for the two and watched with wide eyes as Santana dropped Quinn to the floor and laid her out onto the cold sidewalk, "What do I do, Quinn?"

"I-I don't know…"

"Shit!" The scream echoed throughout the street, and people began wandering over, hoping to catch the next drama that was unfolding in Lima, Ohio. "Fuck, what do I do?"

She felt something vibrate against her leg, and hesitantly, she reached in and pulled out the PAD from her jean pocket. It was glowing, quite brightly in fact, "Quinn, it's glowing, what do I do?"

"What the hell is that?" Someone asked from behind her, but she paid them no attention.

"Quinn!" She shook the blonde, watching as she lazily opened her eyes, gaze unfocused, "What do I do? It's glowing."

"G-Give it…to me…" A shock rippled through the blonde's body, and she rolled over onto her side, throwing up once more. Santana leaned over her body, placed the PAD carefully into her open palm. "T-trust it…" She heard her whisper.

"Trust it…?" The Latina had no idea what the blonde was talking about, but suddenly she saw Quinn and herself enveloped in a harsh light. It was incredibly bright, and at first she thought she was dying or something, but as the light surged around her and electricity crackled around her – she knew that the PAD had done something. "Quinn!"

* * *

><p>Quinn felt herself drop and she immediately braced herself. She felt onto her hands and knees, biting back a shout of pain as the loose stones beneath her bit into her skin.<p>

The pain was gone – actually, her body felt as if it hadn't been writhing in pain and spewing up blood only seconds before. She glanced down at the PAD and read the read-out.

_1556._

She'd gone back the furthest in time she'd ever gone before. It was unnerving, but she realized she was still in Lima. The town square looked like it had in 1580, save for the stocks.

Surprisingly, no one was around. But then again, it had been going on seven when she'd been transported to this time. And if anything she'd learnt in AP History was going to help her – around this time people tended to have a curfew, save for the local law office that did his rounds.

"Oh God…" Her eyes went wide, and frantically she began turning from her spot in the square, "Santana!" Her head snapped when she heard footsteps, and without thinking, she ran toward them "Santana?"

"Excuse me," A large man with a beard stopped before her, a lantern clutched in one hand, and a walking cane in the other, the bottom dug harshly into the soil beneath his feet, "What are you doing out at this time, and what on earth are you wearing?"

She glanced down at her clothes and sighed, of course, her cheerleading uniform, "Look, I don't have time to explain. But have you seen a friend of mine?"

The old man didn't look impressed as he scanned Quinn's choice of clothing, but seemed to perk up when she mentioned a lost friend, "What did she look like, young lady?"

"Uh…about my height, black hair, tanned, wearing the same clothes as me."

"Tanned?" The man seemed confused – very confused. "I don't understand what you mean."

"She's a Latina."

"A 'what'…?"

Quinn groaned, of course, she should have known he wouldn't know anything about people of different origin or colour. He was just a simple man from 1556 – he was used to white people roaming Lima, and he'd probably never in his life left the small town.

"Look, never mind. Have you seen anyone else wearing the same outfit as me?"

The man adjusted his weight on his cane and shook his head, "Can't say I have, young lady. I would sure remember seeing someone wearing that."

Quinn sighed, "Okay, thanks anyway." She turned to leave, but she felt herself be stopped by a hand on her elbow, "Yeah?"

"It's passed curfew. You must go home."

"I uh…don't live here."

The man's eyes widened comically, "Well." He raised his cane and stroked his beard with a finger, "I wouldn't know where you could-," He paused, "Actually, I know where you could stay for the night!"

"Honestly, I'd rather just go look for my friend."

"It would be easier to find your friend in the morning, young lady. Looking at night is much too dangerous for someone your age."

Quinn sighed, "Well…could you take me to the butcher's shop?"

"The butcher's…? Why on earth would you want to go there?"

"Mary works there, right?" Then she cringed, she was in a time before Mary was born.

The man barked a laugh, "A lady butcher? Oh dear…!" The man wiped at his eyes, "You truly are funny, young lady."

Quinn laughed hesitantly.

"I shall take you to Dr. Russell."

"I'm not ill,"

The man laughed and it almost sounded like a loud bellow. Quinn took a gradual step back, watching as the man shook with laughter. Honestly, what she'd said hadn't been that funny – made it had been the way she'd said it? She didn't know; maybe people had simple pleasures back in 1556?

"No, no…he'll allow you stay at his home until morning. He's been quite busy though, but I'm sure his wife would take very good care of you."

"Uh…" Then it hit her, "Wait, you said Doctor?"

The man nodded jerkily, "Why yes and a very good doctor he is, although he's a bit of a…what should I call it…? Eccentric."

"Why?"

"People think he's dabbling into," The man lowered his voice and leaned forward, "Black magic."

Quinn laughed, "You can't be serious?" Actually, the man could be serious. She'd been killed six times in the past two days, anything could happen.

"Well, I only hear the rumours, but that's what I do hear." The man straightened and puffed out his chest, "One must always be on the lookout – I am the town's law enforcement after all."

Quinn thought this man was adorable – back in her day, he would have already been forced into retirement. And the fact that he was Lima's only 'cop' was just sweet. She wished she could have lived in a time where the only crime was petty theft.

"So, this man-,"

"Dr. Russell."

"Dr. Russell," Quinn ran a hand through her hair, glad she took it out of her ponytail after school – having it up to tight for too long always gave her monster headaches, "Does he create medicine?"

"Well of course," The man grinned, "He's also an alchemist – creates all the medicine himself, he does."

Quinn grinned; maybe she could get Dr. Russell to make some medicine for her when she's poisoned?

"Great, could you take me to him?"

The man shuffled on his feet, clutching his cane tightly, "Of course, young lady. Do follow me."

Dr. Russell's wife, Elizabeth was a lovely woman in her late forties. Her hair, a lovely dark brown was beginning to fade to a gentle white/grey. Her bright blue eyes shone with a loving glint, and as she opened the door for Quinn and the law enforcement man, finally named by Elizabeth as John, her face broke out into a huge smile.

"Why, do come in, John."

"I can't stay, Mrs. Russell, I have many other duties to attend to."

"Well of course – you must keep our community safe."

"But of course," John grinned, "And offer my congratulations to Dr. Russell – he must be thrilled with his new daughter."

Elizabeth's face turned wistful, "She truly is perfect, and I'll give him your congratulations. Goodnight, John."

"Goodnight."

Quinn stood awkwardly on the threshold of the door, watching as John hobbled away – she kind of wished he'd stay, and although Dr. Russell's wife seemed like a lovely woman, the fact she'd have to explain herself again, made her want to jump off a cliff.

"Do come in."

* * *

><p>"I must apologize on my husband's behalf. He's working on a new project and refuses to come up from the basement."<p>

"O-Oh, that's fine." Quinn clutched her glass of water and watched as Mrs. Russell left the small nook, which was actually her kitchen, and dropped into the seat gently opposite Quinn.

"So, you need some medicine?"

"Uh,"

"I just assumed that's why you're here, as well as a place to stay."

"Oh! Well…I do. I heard from John that your husband makes the medicine himself and I was wondering if he could make me something specific."

"What were you looking for? Perhaps he already has it on his medical shelf."

"I need some medication to-,"

A loud cry echoed throughout the house, and Quinn jumped in her seat, hands still, thankfully, clutching her glass of water.

"I'm sorry; I must attend to my daughter." Elizabeth stood and smiled, "Perhaps you could help? I could look in my husband's medical shelf afterward."

She hadn't been near a baby since Beth, and the thought of actually being near one made her want to burst into tears. But it was for a good cause. She'd get the medicine she needed, and the whole baby situation would be forgotten.

"Sure."

The house was small, only one room downstairs, and below the stairs a door that led down into the basement – Dr. Russell's workshop—and the stairs that led upstairs to three tiny bedrooms. It didn't feel much like a house, but funnily enough, Elizabeth had made it so homely, like you actually wanted to stay there. It shocked her that people could _actually_ stay over.

The main bedroom, which was obviously shared by Elizabeth and her husband, held one wooden double bed, a small log fire and a carved wooden cot pushed up against the wall. The cot was beautifully designed with swirling patterns – it looked as if it had taken the carver months to complete.

The whining of the baby calmed considerably as Elizabeth bent over the cot, holding out a hand for the baby to clasp onto her finger. "Hush now, Mary."

"Mary?" Quinn's eyes rose high on her forehead – it couldn't be!

"Yes," Elizabeth replied over her shoulder gently, "Would you like to come see her?"

Quinn nodded numbly and her body forced her forward, her Nike's squeaking against the wood of the floor. Hesitantly she bent over the cot and looked in – then let out one almighty sigh of relief. For some reason she thought that the baby would look like Beth. That same look of wonder, those big shining eyes – of course, 'Mary' had all of them. But she wasn't Beth…she wasn't.

"She's…really beautiful."

"Thank you," Elizabeth pulled her finger free from Mary's grasp and gently ran it down the baby's nose in a soothing motion, "She is truly a gift from God."

"All children are," Quinn mumbled, fighting back the lump in her throat.

"I've never heard truer words," Elizabeth smiled and stood up straight when Mary's eyes fluttered to a close, and her breathing levelled out. "Let's look in my husband's cabinet, shall we?" She asked, lowering her voice considerably.

Quinn only nodded and followed Elizabeth out and down the stairs.

The medicine cabinet was huge; in fact, it dominated one wall entirely in the kitchen. It was filled with bottles, every single one of them meticulously labelled and alphabetized, "What medicine were you looking for, Quinn?"

"Uh…to be honest, I'm not really sure."

"Hm," Elizabeth ran a hand through her hair, "Well, what is the ailment that needs curing? I'm not a Doctor, but I've learnt enough from my husband's studies over the years."

"Poisoning,"

"Well, I must say, I'm not completely sure what medicine would cure poisoning – it would honestly depend on the type of poison."

"I'm…not sure what poison it is…"

"Perhaps you could find out?"

"How…?"

The PAD's whirring sound grated in her head, and the gentle vibration of the device turning on trembled against her hip. "Uhm…do you mind if I quickly go get some air?"

"Are you feeling unwell?"

"Just a little dizzy," Quinn smiled gently, "I'll only be a minute."

"Of course, dear. I'll be here."

Quinn quickly left the room, pulling out the PAD as she went before leaving the house and closing the door securely behind her. With a quick flick of her head she looked up and down the street, thankful that no one was around.

The PAD's glowing had returned and the read-out showed a time of only a few hours before the poisoning, around dinner time that day at school. Shutting her eyes, she focused on the PAD, and hoped the PAD was sending her to the right place.

* * *

><p>She was at her locker, halfway through grabbing her math book. Suddenly, she stopped and sighed, "How am I supposed to find out…?"<p>

She slammed her locker shut and gently pressed her forehead against the cool metal. The bell for class had already gone, and the usual slackers that tended to get to class late had already began to disperse. Eventually, she was the only one left in the hall, head still pressed against her locker.

"How am I supposed to know what poison it is?" She pulled her head back and then forward, bashing it against her locker, "How?"

**"Well, don't cause a concussion by figuring it out."**

Quinn jumped and swirled. A pale face filled her vision, and with a quiet yell she fell backwards against the locker, "W-Who the hell?"

**"I am Homunculus."**

"Uh…"

**"I assure you, I did not choose the name."** When Quinn made no reply, 'Homunculus' continued, **"You wish to know the name of the poison so you may find the antidote?"**

"Obviously…that's why I'm here…"

It was increasingly weird to actually stare into the face of the person that was doing this to her. Honestly, Homunculus didn't look entirely human. He was about the same height as Quinn, dressed entirely in black; black shirt tucked into black pants that tucked into what looked like black military boots. Only the skin of his hands and face were showing, and it was so pale that he almost looked idead/i. And his eyes…a shocking bright red that made him love ievil/i.

**"You are scared by my appearance?"** Homunculus chucked and slowly took a step back, he appeared slow, **"Don't be, I assure you, I am only here to help you."**

"Why are you here…?" Quinn's hands tried to clutch at the locker that dug painfully into her back, "Why now?"

Homunculus smiled, **"You wished to see me, did you not? And I find it incredibly anti-social to talk without knowing who you are talking to, correct?"**

"I suppose," Quinn sighed and pushed herself away from the locker, standing to full height, "So, why are you here right now then?"

**"The antidote, you will need it to survive, you know that as much."**

Quinn just nodded.

**"You need to know the name of the poison."**

"How am I supposed to know the name when I don't even know when it's put in my food? It's not like I can catch them in the act."

**"The antidote is only available in 1556."**

"Why only from that time?"

**"Just one ingredient in the antidote seized to exist the year and after that, it was one of the most dangerous of poisons – one that still, to this day, has no antidote."**

"How does that help me…?"

**"Perhaps you could search for antidotes that only existed from that time? I'm almost certain you have the ability to."**

Suddenly Homunculus turned and began to walk down the hall, and then he stopped, glanced over his shoulder and then turned, **"Oh, and one more thing."** Even face to face the sounded so disjointed from reality, and almost feminine in its tones.

"More things to do…? Isn't surviving enough…?"

**"If you come across a red stone, please make sure that you keep it in your possession."**

Quinn crossed her arms over her chest, "Why? What would you want with a red stone…?"

Homunculus just smiled,** "I don't want it."**

The blonde shut her eyes and groaned – why did this…'Homunculus' want her to look out for a stone if it didn't even want it in the first place? She opened up her eyes and made to reply when she just stopped. A shimmering red glow appeared around Homunculus.

**"Remember to look out for the stone,"**

Then Homunculus was gone.

The Library was the one place she could think of, and stupidly enough, she thought they would have books on poisoning. After a rather awkward conversation with the librarian who asked her iwhy/i they would have books on poisons and antidotes in a ischool/i library, she was directed toward the school computers so she could do her search online.

She could still feel the Librarian's eyes boring into the back of her skull, but one harsh glare over her shoulder at the one stopped it immediately. She was too fucking stressed to deal with a moronic librarian.

With a quick type into the internet, Google popped up, and silently she praised the people who invented it. "Google has all the answers,"

_Antidotes and poisons '1556',_

That was her first search, and after trawling through the first pages of sites, she came up empty handed. Most of them just spoke of poison rates back in that time and how people were prosecuted if found with poisons. That was about it.

"Dammit," She tapped her fingers gently against the keys of the keyboard.

_Antidotes of poisons only available in 1556._

"Hello, Quinn."

Quinn jumped in her seat and swirled, looking up. Rachel Berry stood behind her, binding clutched tightly to her chest, "Aren't you supposed to be in class?" Was the only thing Quinn could ask, or even say.

"I have a free period," Rachel smiled, "Aren't _you/_ supposed to be in class?"

"I," Quinn raised her hand and pointed her index finger up, then dropped it, "Yeah, kind of."

"I won't tell, don't worry." Rachel glanced at the computer beside Quinn and smiled, "May I?"

Quinn shrugged, "Free world." And then turned back to her computer to continue her search. From the corner of her eye she watched as Rachel placed her binder beside the keyboard, sat down, then flipped open the binder. Then her eyes wandered, and she watched how Rachel's hair framed her face perfectly, and fell gently as she looked down at her notebook.

Hypnotized, she watched as Rachel's index trailed along the edge of the binder, almost in a teasing motion before drifting over the keyboard to log in with her username and password – eyes never leaving her notebook.

Quinn felt her body flush, and at first she thought she'd been poisoned again, when Rachel's tongue poked out and ran between her lips slowly. The heat in her body rose, before suddenly falling between her legs.

_Oh God…_

She continued to watch, wondering how that tongue would feel on her…between her legs.

Shaking her head violently she turned back to the computer and stared at the results page, vision unfocused.

"Are you alright, Quinn…?" Rachel asked, when she noticed Quinn hadn't moved or blinked in a few minutes.

"Just…a little confused."

"Oh?" Rachel glanced at the computer, "Do you need help with your…" She leaned closer, and Quinn could have fainted from the scent of Rachel that filled her nose. Where the hell was this coming from? She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to force out the feelings that had overtaken her body. This was _Rachel Berry_. Her nemesis. Her arch-enemy. She had a boyfriend, and so did Rachel – they were both _straight!_

"Poison…?" Rachel sounded incredibly confused, and Quinn shook herself from her thoughts, "Why are you looking up that, Quinn?"

"Uh. Chemistry," She wished Rachel would lean back, leave the library, leave the school, hell, leave town. The feeling between her legs was becoming infuriating, and she had to cross her legs to stop it from feeling any worse. Why was she feeling this way? Why?

"Quinn, I'm in your Chemistry class. We're not learning anything like that."

"Extra credit."

"Oh?" Rachel leaned back and Quinn let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding in, "Well, okay."

Damn she was good.

Then Rachel smiled and Quinn suddenly felt herself melt, so with a gulp and a shaky hand, she took hold of the mouse and focused her attention on her computer.

The first two sites were duds – she only skimmed through them, but they didn't offer any conclusive answers. The third site, however, was like a gold mine. It listed every single antidote from the time, and had one page dedicated to antidotes that were no longer available after the year 1556.

There were only three antidotes, and luckily they had explanations of the poisons that accompanied them, and their side effects. The first poison described it as a 'slow acting poison that shuts down the body's internal organs. Affects can take up to three days to complete.'

Shaking her head, she clicked on the link for the second poison and grinned. Jackpot.

_Oleander; reactions to this plant are as follows: Ingestion can cause both gastrointestinal and cardiac effects. The gastrointestinal effects can consist of nausea and vomiting, excess salivation, abdominal pain. Cardiac reactions consist of irregular heart rate, sometimes characterized by a racing heart at first that then slows to below normal further along in the reaction. The heart may also beat erratically with no sign of a specific rhythm. These symptoms can include drowsiness, tremors or shaking of the muscles, seizures, collapse, and even coma that can lead to death._

Scrolling further down the page, she realized that the Oleander could be crushed to an incredibly fine dust, and made to sprinkle on food or stirred into a drink.

That's what had killed her – all the symptoms had fit. Oleander had killed her, and the only antidote was stuck back in 1556. "Mind if I borrow of a pen?"

Rachel looked away from her computer and smiled, brandishing the pen that she had clutched in her left hand. Quinn tried not to pay attention to the way Rachel's finger grazed hers as she took the pen. Quickly, she wrote the name of the poison down on the palm of her hand before handing back the pen. "Thanks."

"Going so soon?" Rachel seemed disappointed, and although she hated to, so did Quinn.

"Yeah, I have to go."

"Oh, well, I'll see you in Glee, Quinn."

"Yeah, see ya." The vibrating of the PAD against her hip pulled her attention away from Rachel's eyes (honestly, how had she not realized how beautiful they were?) and rushed to the library door. She stopped when her hand touched the handle, and quickly she turned around, a shiver running down her spine when she realized Rachel was still looking at her.

"Look, I know you're not stupid enough…but don't get pressured into something you don't want to do, okay?"

Rachel seemed confused, and Quinn found it horribly adorable the way her brow furrowed, "Why would you say that?"

"Just…don't, okay?" Quinn smiled hesitantly before leaving the library, leaving an utterly confused, but flushed Rachel behind.

_She smiled at me…_

* * *

><p>"Well that was quick." Quinn smiled at Elizabeth, who was stood at the kitchen sink – which was just a wooden bucket with cold water in it, "Feel better now?"<p>

"Much, thank you." She joined the older woman in the kitchen and glanced at her hand, "I know the name of the poison. I just remembered it."

"Oh, well that's delightful. What's the name?" Elizabeth walked over to the large shelf and began looking over the bottles.

"Oleander,"

"Oh my husband has spoken about that before, terrible poison…" The tip of Elizabeth's finger trailed along one row of bottles before moving to a different row and repeating. She stopped on the third row and pulled the fourth bottle from it, "This is the only antidote we have, I'm afraid. Would it be enough for you, dear?"

"More than enough," She took the bottle and clutched it tightly in her hand, "You have no idea how much you've helped me. Thank you."

Elizabeth smiled, "Well, if you ever need any more help, you know where to find me. I'm always here."

Suddenly, Quinn sobered. No, she would. If what Mary had said was correct, then her parents would die very suddenly when she was still very young. Looking at Elizabeth and the gentle smile her face held, the way her skin aged delicately with a dusting of wrinkles, she wanted to cry. This woman was so loving, and she was just going to die.

**"You cannot interfere. Move on."**

Quinn swallowed and nodded, "I should get going then," Almost as if on cue, the PAD began to vibrate against her hip.

"Of course, I'll walk you to the door."

Elizabeth placed a gentle hand on her elbow as she escorted her to the door, "Mother…?"

Both women stopped and looked up the stairs. A young boy, brunette, stood rubbing his eye with a lazy hand, "Who's that…?"

Elizabeth glanced at Quinn, and then rolled her eyes playfully, "This is just a visitor Samuel; now back to bed with you."

The boy couldn't have been more than six, and the way he stood pigeon toed at the top of the stairs had Quinn mentally 'awing'.

"Samuel?" Quinn looked at Elizabeth.

"My son,"

The blonde nodded and looked back up to the boy who stared down at her – Samuel would disappear too when Mary was eleven, but why…?

The vibrating against her hip grew heavier, and she knew if she didn't leave now she'd be stuck in that time. "I have to go, but it was a pleasure meeting you. Thanks so much for your help."

"The pleasure is all mine, dear."

Quinn nodded and shook the woman's hand before looking up the stairs and waving at the young boy. He waved back hesitantly.

Then with a parting glance with Elizabeth, she left.

Stood outside the Doctor's house, she went to grab the PAD when suddenly she realized, "Oh fuck! Santana!" She ran toward the town square, hoping and praying that the Latina was still there. She couldn't leave Santana behind, she couldn't. The paradox that she'd create would be catastrophic - what would happen to the future? The children that Santana would have, the life she would continue to live? She wouldn't have one.

Lima was only small, but that still didn't change the fact that her usually robust second in command couldn't be found. "Fuck," Quinn stopped in the middle of the square, bending down, hands on her knees, PAD digging uncomfortably into her stomach, "Santana..."

The PAD's whirring sounded almost as if it was jarring, and quickly she stood and pulled it out. The glowing, which was usually bright and hard to look at, was dying down, almost as if it was shutting down.

"Oh God..." With a quick whip of her head, she looked around the square once more, "Santana! I swear, I'll come back for you!" She clutched the PAD and shut her eyes, feeling herself being taken away, back to her time.

* * *

><p>The pain in her abdomen was there as soon as she felt herself return - and quickly, she unscrewed the bottle and downed the contents. It tasted weird, like a mix between cinnamon and raw meat. It made her cringe, and when she pulled the bottle back from her lips, it took all she had not to throw it back up.<p>

So she just sat there, opposite a now empty booth seat and sighed. She was alive, but Santana was stuck back in 1556 - would she be stuck there forever? The PAD only worked when it responded to her, not the Latina. Would be be able to go back to that time again...and get her back?

With a groaned she leaned back in her seat, feeling exhaustion wash over her body as the burning in her stomach completely dissipated.

"I'll get you back, S. I swear I will."


	6. Chapter 5

"Hey, Quinn…?"

Rachel watched as Quinn looked up from her notebook, pen twirling between two fingers – which she _really_ hadn't been watching for the past ten minutes – and watched as one slim eyebrow rose in question.

Brittany stood before her, in her cheerio uniform as usual, her hair in the normal ponytail – but something seemed different about the perky blonde. Her eyes seemed wounded, and her shoulder's seemed slumped; she didn't seem to carry her body with the same resilience and energy that she did every day.

"What's up?"

The diva tried to not make it look like she was listening in – she was in the choir room after all, waiting for Mr. Schue to arrive as usual. Honestly, she would have to talk to that man about his punctuality; Regionals were only a few months away and they were wasting valuable time! This would never happen on Broadway.

Finn sat beside her, his hands clutched in his lap. He hadn't really spoken to her all day, not after the day before after school hours. He'd tried to breech the subject of actually having sex, and he was wounded when Rachel immediately stood up for herself and said, no, shouted, that she wouldn't be pressured into something she didn't want to do.

Suffice to say, Finn was in a terrible mood. He hadn't spoken, nor looked at her all day and honestly, she didn't mind it. Of course, it hurt – she hated it when they argued, but sometimes he could just be a gigantic ibaby/i sometimes. He pouted over the most ridiculous of things, and sometimes he could just really get on her nerves. He'd said the same thing about her; that she was a gigantic pain in his ass, but not all relationships could be smiles and rainbows, could they?

She loved Finn, she really did – but until recently, something had her worried. They way her eyes seemed to drift over to a certain blonde had her terrified. The way she could be stood in the halls, talking with Finn about what they were going to do that night and how her eyes would just ever so discreetly drift over to the familiar blonde cheerio that stood by her own locker, grabbing her books for next period.

The conversation between Quinn and herself had been sparse, but she'd tried her hardest to try and change that. She made herself more available, went over to the blonde when a few months back, she would have stayed well away, and even invited her to her religious after school vocal sessions. If that wasn't reaching out enough, she didn't know what was.

But what shocked her more was the fact that Quinn had in fact, accepted one time, and looked to accepted another, if they hadn't been interrupted.

And Rachel Berry was _not_ stupid. Quinn Fabray was acting more and more awkward as the days went on – especially around her. The cheerio Captain seemed to keep it together when she was by herself, just quietly thinking to herself; although she seemed as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. But when they were together, or Quinn was fiddling around in her bag, looking at something or other, she could tell that something was wrong.

Her eye for catching things was infamous – after all, she did figure out that Puck was actually the father to Quinn's baby. So it hadn't been rocket science to notice the look that Quinn gave her the day before in the library – or the looks before that, although seemingly milder. It seemed as if the blonde was confused when she looked at her, or _terrified_. It worried her, but not as much as it thrilled her.

If she was getting the same vibes that she thought she was getting – Quinn Fabray had a lot of explaining to do.

"Have you seen Santana, lately?"

Rachel glanced at the two blonde's from the corner of her eye, watching with eager eyes as the twirling of Quinn's pen abruptly stopped and fell from her hand. It was honestly baffling.

"Uh, can't say I have, B."

And that was the other thing – although Brittany had dropped Santana and run to Artie, the two still seemed to be very close, and although she didn't want to admit it, she knew that Brittany was in love with Santana and was only using the poor wheelchair bound boy to throw the Latina into a jealous rage and demand she come back to her.

The fact that Brittany hadn't seen Santana was mysterious. The Latina was hardly ever ill, and only ever took time off after one of Puck's parties when she needed to re-cooperate. But Puck hadn't had a party, and looking over her shoulder, the mohawked boy was chatting _and_ leering at Lauren.

He seemed fine, and she hadn't heard of any parties – and even though she was never invited to them, even with being Finn's steady girlfriend, she always heard about them. So why Santana wasn't in school was weird, unless she really was ill?

"I tried to ringing her phone, but it said it was out of service, I didn't get it. Her phone is always in service…"

The diva's eyes snapped back to the two cheerleaders. Quinn was shuffling in her seat now, shutting her notebook and throwing it into her bag. She'd never seen the blonde so jittery before, and the way she seemed to avoid Brittany's eyes was something she'd taken note of during the whole Baby Gate scandal.

Quinn…

"I really wouldn't know. Sorry, B."

…Never looked someone in the eye when she was lying.

"Oh, well…if you see her, can you tell her that Mr. Duck is doing fine?"

Rachel chuckled gently to herself, which made Finn's eyes snap to her, which she ignored.

"Uh…sure thing, Britt."

Then the tall blonde dancer just nodded and wandered over to Artie, eyes shining with unshed tears. Honestly, Quinn could have handled it better, and the way that Brittany just collapsed into Artie's chair and stayed silent was quite unnerving. The blonde was a force of nature, and the natural comedian in the group, so when she said nothing and just stared into space, it had the diva worried.

Artie, on the other hand, didn't even seem to notice that his girlfriend's pain was immediately to do with Santana Lopez. His attention had been focused on Tina, who had been chatting softly with Mike in the back row.

Rachel sighed; honestly, all the relationships in Glee Club were so messed up.

And as if on cue, Sam wondered into the room, one hand clutching the strap on his backpack, which he slid across the floor, and came to a stop at the seat beside his girlfriend. A surge ran through Rachel's body when she watched Sam sit down, lean over and kiss Quinn gently, which the blonde responded to.

The diva scoffed, "They're like twins,"

"Who's like twins…?" Oh, now Finn was paying attention to her when she ididn't/i want to be paid attention to.

"Oh, no one Finn; I'm just remembering the lyric to a song that I momentarily forgot. I apologize for interrupting your train of thought."

"I wasn't thinking…"

_What else is new…?_

"Oh, well I still apologize."

Finn groaned beside her, and she heard his seat creak slightly as he sat back. She wanted him to realize that what he'd said was completely out of order – if he wanted to breach the subject of sex he should have done it by the book…or by the two hour long PowerPoint presentation she had given him the day they begun dating.

Slide sixteen, paragraph two, line four: Sex in the relationship will not commence until the date of December 18th, 2019, when I, Rachel Berry, have ascended to the age of 25. If the subject of sex wishes to be commented upon before such a time, please send a formal, written question and hand it to, I, Rachel Berry, personally.

Honestly, she couldn't have been clearer!

Silently, she fumed – Finn honestly had no idea how much trouble she had gone through to put that Powerpoint together, and she had written it so elegantly as well! She assumed he must have fallen asleep when she hadn't been looking; her boyfriend tended to do that from time to time. Was she really that boring…?

Glancing back over to Quinn, she watched as Sam whispered gently into her ear. Quinn was smiling, but it wasn't a full smile that the blonde gave when she was truly happy. Her eyes seemed to be drifting off into space, and her arms were up against body, elbows propped up on her knees as if she was protecting her own body.

Rachel Berry was _not_ stupid.

She had the biggest crush on Quinn Fabray, and no matter what she did, she couldn't ignore it or get rid of it.

Finn moved beside her once more, arm wrapping around her shoulder, "Look, Rach, I'm sorry about yesterday, okay? Can you kinda…not ignore me anymore?"

Yesterday.

Rachel glanced at Quinn quickly, then back to Finn. Yesterday.

_"Look, I know you're not stupid enough…but don't get pressured into something you don't want to do, okay?"_

It had seemed out of the ordinary as soon as the words had left Quinn's lips; it was a shock that Quinn had actually given her advice, but the fact that she chose that day, only hours before Finn began pressuring her into having sex, was a little weird.

No, not a little; a hell a lotta weird.

She'd noticed the cheerio Captain was acting weirder with every passing day – she seemed like her usual self Monday; she had ignored the diva like the plague and even glared at her a few times. All until the after school session in the auditorium.

Quinn had actually come to look for her, had invited herself to stay, practiced a song that Rachel had picked, and then told the brunette that she would be driving her own afterward.

Why had she done that? Why was Quinn acting so awkward?

"Right guys; let's get this show on the road!" Mr. Schue traipsed in, twenty minutes late to his own class, and slammed down the sheet paper on the piano lid, which Brad was sat at, cleaning his glasses with a handkerchief.

_Where does Brad even come from…?_ She would pose the question to the man after Glee Club, honestly, if she was going to be co-captain of New Directions she had to know where each and every member (band, teacher, or club member included) came from!

"Uh…where's Santana?"

Rachel's eyes snapped from Mr. Schue to Brittany, who was still staring into space, and then to Quinn. The blonde sat up immediately, thus pushing Sam back into his own chair; he didn't seem wounded by the move, actually, he seemed a little miffed.

"Quinn? Brittany? Do you have any idea where she is?"

Quinn glanced over at Brittany and then back to Will, "I have no idea, Mr. Schue. She might be ill."

"Ah, well, alrighty then." He picked up the sheet music again and wandered over to the first row, "Now, I think I have the perfect song for Regionals."

_I'm writing an original song! How dare you!_

* * *

><p>"Are you cheating on Sam with my boyfriend?"<p>

Quinn jumped back from her locker, stared at the pintsized diva before her, then closed the locker gently, "Excuse me?" She leaned against it, her shoulder pressingly deliciously into the metal, cooling her warming skin.

"You heard me," Rachel narrowed her eyes and slammed her clenched fists down on her hips, "I have reason to believe that you're cheating on your own boyfriend with mine."

Quinn's eyes grew wide, and Rachel braced herself for a punch of some kind, but then a gentle, almost melodic laugh echoed throughout the half-empty hall.

Rachel stared wide eyed as Quinn wrapped her arms tightly around her stomach, bent over and laughed hard, her body shaking with mirth. The brunette looked around nervously as students passed them, staring at the head cheerio as if she had a screw loose.

Slowly, but surely, Quinn stood up to full height, wiped her eyes gently and took one shuddering breath in, "God I needed that, thank you."

"Excuse me?"

"I needed a laugh like that; haven't in a while, so thanks." Quinn opened her locker again quickly and pulled out her English book, "See ya, Berry," and then walked away.

Rachel stood stoic, in shock, hands still clenched at her hips; she hadn't expected it to go like that. She expected Quinn to shout the odds, perhaps punch her, or order a slushy attack? But nothing. Slowly, she turned on the heel of her Mary Jane's and narrowed her eyes.

Without thinking, she stomped her way toward the blonde cheerleader, following her around a corner. Momentarily, she thought she'd lost her among the sea of student's that rushed to get to class, but she saw a flash of blonde in the distance, heading into the girl's toilets, and followed.

Unfortunately, luck was not on her side. Quinn wasn't anywhere to be found in the toilet, but one of the stall doors appeared to be locked, so she assumed she was in there. But the fact that four cheerio's, all seniors, stood in a line at the sinks as they adjusted their already immaculate ponytails and re-applied their make-up, had her cause for concern.

It was bad enough being in a small restroom with four cheerio's, but the fact they were senior's had the diva almost shaking in her Mary Jane's. But with resilience, and the good old Rachel Berry façade of 'I don't care what you say or do, because I'm better than you' that she'd perfected over the years, she stood and waited by the door for Quinn to emerge.

"What the hell are you doing in here, tranny?"

Strike one, coming from the mastermind of the small group – Nicole Holmes, a raven haired megalomaniac who thought the world should bow at her feet. She was dating one of the guy's on the hockey team, and Rachel knew that she frequently cheated on him if what she heard from Jacob Ben Israel was to believed (which it usually was) and thought she was the most stunning girl in school.

Which she wasn't; the diva thought she looked like a mix between a crow and a raven, respectively. But that might have been a bit too harsh on birds.

"Yeah…didn't you read what it said on the door? Girls only, no trannies allowed."

Okay, really? Strike two.

There was a flush of a toilet, and Rachel's heart quickened harshly in her chest – Quinn would come out and the tormenting would stop. Although the four cheerio's were seniors, Quinn was still their Captain, and she knew that the blonde Captain was a relentless team leader – even seniors were terrified of her. But was Nicole?

"She's probably just in here to perv on us, aren't you Ray?"

Oh haha. Strike three.

The door to the toilet stall swung open and Quinn walked out, still adjusting the skirt of her uniform, but she seemed distracted. Obviously she'd heard the name calling from her fellow cheerio's, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to know who they were directed at. But what shocked Rachel was the fact Quinn completely avoided eye contacted her, rushed over to the sink and begun washing her hands.

_Isn't she…?_

"Hey Q, don't you think we should teach Berry a lesson for perving on us?" It was Nicole who asked, and naturally Rachel felt an impending sense of doom hit her lower stomach. Quinn might have been the Captain, but when by herself, without Santana or Brittany flanking her, she might as well have been a freshman being sent to slaughter. Nicole was the HBIC as of right then, not Quinn.

"Uh…"

"What do you mean, uh?" Nicole crossed her arms over chest, and then flicked her hair over her shoulder as she regarded Rachel, eyes narrowed, almost into slits. "She's being a perv; she needs to be taught a lesson."

Quinn quickly glanced over to Rachel and locked eyes – Rachel felt her body explode as Quinn's hazel eyes scanned her own brown ones, almost posing a secret question, or trying to find a hidden answer.

The diva knew what Quinn was trying to do – to tell her to leave, just turn around and forget she'd ever walked in. But Rachel stood her ground, arms crossed defiantly over her chest, foot tapping gently against the dirty tile of the toilet floor.

_Stick up for me, Quinn. Stick up for me._

She tried to concentrate the message on Quinn, but before she could, Quinn's eyes snapped back to Nicole. She just shrugged at the senior and Rachel sighed heavily – it wasn't an agreement, but it wasn't a cut all answer saying: Stay away from her.

Quinn wasn't going to stick up for her – she was stupid to even think she would.

Nicole laughed and turned, her back finally facing Quinn who took one almighty gulp of air. With Nicole blocking her view of Rachel, she let her eyes fall to the floor, where she blinked back the tears of mortification; Nicole's punishments were even harsher than hers.

"Get your phone out, Chloe."

A brunette cheerleader reached down into her bag and pulled out her iPhone, thumb punching down on some of the buttons before she looked to her leader for clarification.

"Just keep the camera on _it_."

And so she did, and with two giggling cheerleaders watching from behind the camera, and another trying to fight back tears, Nicole launched herself at Rachel and grabbed her by her arms, pulling her into a nearby stall. The two cheerio's followed with camera in tow, giggling by the doors as the tell-tale sounds of splashing could be heard.

Quinn's eyes shut painfully tight, trying to block out the sound of Rachel's shoes squeaking against the tires and Nicole's almost devilish laugh's echoing throughout the bathroom.

"And let that be a lesson to you, freak!" Nicole left the stall, wiping her hands down on the sides of her uniform. She glanced down at the phone and smirked, "We'll give that to Jew Fro, it'll be all over the school by tomorrow morning."

Quinn's eyes snapped open, eyes blazing with a hidden anger, "Let's go girls." She opened her mouth to say something, but the words stuck in the back of her throat. She tried to force them out, but before she could even try, the four cheerio's were already out the door.

Silence enveloped the restroom; it was unnerving, and she wanted to leave, but Quinn couldn't move her body. It felt as if it was stuck in place. But after a few seconds, she finally found the strength to move, and walked gently over to the sinks to grab the English book she'd left there.

Her fingers had only just grazed the cover when sniffing rang throughout the room, and then gentle sobbing. A gentle splash of water sounded deafening to her ears, and when she turned to look at the stall, she saw all the water that had sloshed onto the floor.

She felt disgusted with herself.

The blonde was slightly shocked when she realized Rachel hadn't moved yet, so with small, gentle, almost baby steps, she walked toward the stall and fought back a gasp when she stood at the entrance.

Rachel sat there, back pressed against the stall wall, arms cradling her raised knees that her forehead was pressed on. Her body shook as she sobbed, which seemed to be growing heavier with each given moment. The diva was soaked, the front of her cerulean blouse completely sodden through with toilet water, her hair plastered to her head.

Suddenly, Rachel's head snapped up and she regarded the blonde with watery brown eyes. Quinn couldn't help but think that she'd never looked so beautiful – even sodden through and shaking, she still looked breath-taking.

"I'm-,"

"Don't you dare say it," Rachel snapped, wiping at her cheeks before clambering up to her feet slowly, almost worthlessly brushing at her skirt. Raising her chin defiantly she shoved past the blonde, checking her on the way with her shoulder.

Quinn only fell back slightly, and pushed her back up against the stable wood between two stalls as she regarded Rachel. The diva stood, still shaking, in front of the mirror, pushing her hair back from her face.

"Can I say it?"

"No," Rachel bit out.

"Can you at least look at me?"

"No,"

Quinn sighed gently and walked forward, coming to a stop only a few inches behind Rachel. Gently, she lowered her voice, and desperately she asked, "I need you to look at me, Rachel…"

There was no reply and Quinn felt her heart do something it hadn't done since Finn found out he wasn't the father of her baby. And when Rachel turned and left the restroom, slamming the door shut cleanly behind her – it felt twice as worse.

* * *

><p>She had a fucking lot on her plate – and it was only a matter of time until it all caught up on her. She wandered the halls, which none of the teacher's questioned, because she was Sue Sylvester's mini-me, and they left her to her own devices.<p>

It was lonely, too lonely in fact, but she didn't really care. She continued to walk, just thinking back on the look of utter desperation on Rachel's back in the restroom. It would have only taken one word from Quinn to actually stop Nicole – but her reputation as head cheerleader got in the way…again. She just couldn't understand; being popular was supposed to make you feel good, not feel completely disgusted with yourself 99% of the time.

She had never seen that look in Rachel's eyes before; not even when she came to the group for advice on Jesse, or the look she held when she entered the choir room again after the whole Sunshine scandal. That look was so foreign to Quinn, and the tone in Rachel's voice.

_Damn…_

With a shudder, she stopped in the middle of the hall. What was she thinking? She alienated the only person who really iunderstood/i her; the one who could look at her and not see 'Head Cheerleader' or 'HBIC' but Quinn Fabray, the 17 year old girl.

"Q, what are you doing?"

Quinn's head snapped up and toward the sound of the voice. Coach Sylvester stood in the doorway of her office, Becky stood behind her clutching a clipboard, "Oh…I was just…going for a walk, Coach."

"Hm," Sue looked down at Becky, and then tapped her on the shoulder gently. Almost automatically, Becky shuffled past Sue, then Quinn and disappeared down the hall. "Come inside, we need to talk."

Quinn settled herself down into the seat opposite Sue's desk, not really caring that she wasn't given permission to. Her Coach's journal was sat open on her desk, her scruffy handwriting blanketing the white pages. She couldn't read it from where she was sat – nor did she want to, being in Coach Sylvester's head was more terrifying a thought than dying again.

"You haven't been all there, recently." Sue leaned back in her chair, swirling gently from side to side, "In practice, you just haven't been paying attention."

"Sorry, Coach."

"Sorry won't cut it, Q. You've cut valuable time, and now I can't even seem to find Chesticles. Do you have any idea where she is?"

Quinn shook her head and then sighed angrily – damn, she'd forgotten about Santana. How could she focus on saving her own life when her best friend was stuck back in 1556 by herself, in a town where they hadn't even come across Latina's yet?

"Sorry, Coach."

Sue pulled her glasses off and threw them down onto her journal, "Let me break it down for you, Q." She pressed her fingers together, "Either you get your act together, or you're off the squad. I can't waste my time on a girl who doesn't want to be a part of the team. I have plenty of other girls who would love to take up your spot."

Clenching her jaw, Quinn looked up to her Coach with watering eyes and nodded. It was her popularity that had ruined it – and her popularity sprouted from being a cheerleader. And really, what was it going to do for her? She scoffed silently in her seat – was she going to become a professional cheerleader anytime soon?

"Then I quit."

Sue's face dropped, "Wait, what?"

The words sounded so freeing when they escaped her lips, so again, with a smile, she stood from her seat and looked down at her coach, "I quit the cheerio's." Slowly, she rounded the chair and walked toward the office door, quickly, almost flippantly she told her ex-coach before leaving, not even looking at her, "You'll have my uniform by the end of the day."

A weight, small, but a weight none the less, was suddenly lifted from her shoulders. She didn't have to worry about the popularity that accompanied being a cheerio – but she wouldn't be left completely in the dark, she'd have something that would keep her head above water.

She was dating a football player after all.

* * *

><p>She decided to go home and get a change of clothes – she'd already missed all her morning lessons, and it wasn't as if she was hungry enough to go to lunch. She'd just opened the front door when she heard the tell-tale sounds of her mother somewhere in the house.<p>

"Quinn? What are you doing home?"

Judy Fabray stood at the top of the steps, one hand resting comfortably on the staircase rail. She was already in her work clothes, obviously just about to leave for work at one of the main banks in the centre of Lima.

"I just came home to change, mom." Quinn smiled briefly up at her mom before walking past the staircase and toward the basement door at the far side of the house. She'd moved her room after her father left; it was originally his place where he liked to relax after work – he'd sit, drink, smoke and listen to some overly religious music.

As soon as he'd moved out, she'd overtaken the room and asked her mom if she could make it into her own room. Her mom had quickly agreed, after all, anything that would make her daughter happy, was good enough for her.

So she'd re-decorated – her whole room now a light cream colour, with a mix of exposed brick, art deco pieces lining the walls that her mother had collected on time at a car boot sale. Quinn had loved them as soon as she had seen them, as well as soon gorgeous photos taken by a predominant New York photographer. It had actually made Quinn want to take up photography, and after a little persuading, she managed to go half and half with her mother on a state of the art camera.

Her room now fitted for a girl her age – not bright pink that her father demanded she keep it like. She knew that Russell Fabray always wanted to keep his daughter as his little princess, but when she got pregnant that was just thrown out the window. And although she wanted to forget everything about her father, she couldn't get rid of everything to do with her faith. She still wore the cross around her neck as a solitary reminder, but the huge picture of Jesus was a no go.

It was hidden, safely, in the back of her closet.

She ripped off her uniform in her haste to get it off, but took her time folding it – she wasn't going to cross Sue Sylvester again only to explain why the uniform was ruined. She threw it in her gym bag, which she knew she wouldn't need anymore, and placed it on her bed for safekeeping.

Stood in her underwear, she slowly began to realize that the PAD had been stuffed between her skirt and skin. "Oh no…" Her head snapped around, looking around on the floor for the elusive device. With a deep sigh she found it halfway underneath the bed. "Oh thank God,"

She grabbed the PAD and dropped it gently on her desk that was pushed up against the exposed brick wall. There it would be kept safe, and she wouldn't lose it like she had a habit of doing lately.

"Quinnie…?" Her mother knocked gently on the door and invited herself in, half blushing when she realized her daughter was down to her underwear – a rather racy lacy black pair. When had her daughter bought those?

Quinn noticed her mother's eyebrows shoot up her forehead when she caught sight of her underwear, and with a blush, she rushed over to her wardrobe and pulled out a pair of light blue jeans, a white faded band tee and a pair of military boots that she'd bought a few weeks before with Mercedes on an impromptu shopping trip.

The young blonde dressed as her mother continued, "Why are you changing out of your cheerio's uniform? Don't you have practice tonight?" Judy glanced down at her wristwatch, "Actually, shouldn't you have practice right now?"

Quinn sat down on the bed and began pulling on her boots, "I quit the cheerio's, mom." She began tying the lace on her left boot, "I was getting sick of the pressure Coach Sylvester kept putting on me."

"She was pressuring you? Well, you are…_were_ the Captain of the squad, Quinnie."

"I know mom, but I've got a lot on my plate right now, I'd rather not have the cheerio's just adding pressure to me."

Judy crossed her arms gently over her chest, "A lot on your plate? Like what? I thought you were doing well in school?" A shadow crossed over her mother's face, "That Evans boy isn't pressuring you is he?"

Quinn barked out a laugh, Sam hadn't even breached the subject of sex with her yet – thankfully. "No mom, he's not pressuring me at all."

Judy nodded, "Well…that's okay then. But this pressure; what's happening?"

The younger Fabray finished with her boots and jumped to her feet, walking over to her desk to shove the PAD into her jeans pocket. "Nothing's happening, mom." Understatement of the century, "Look I really got to get back to school," She nudged past Judy gently, "Have a good day at work."

She was halfway up the steps when her mother's voice stopped her, "Don't shut me out like you did with your father, Quinn."

Foot halfway up on another step, she stopped and turned around, looking down at her mom. Silently, she wished she could tell her mom what was going on – but she knew she couldn't, she wouldn't understand. She'd freak out and make everything just a little bit worse. She'd be doing her mother a favour if she didn't tell her what was going on. So instead, she plastered a smile on her face and said with an unnervingly weird sense of calm, "I'm not shutting you out mom, trust me. We'll speak soon, I love you."

And then rushed back up the stairs, smiling at the very faint but loving, "I love you too," before leaving the house.

* * *

><p>"What's wrong?" Finn found his girlfriend sat in the empty auditorium, sat at the front of the stage, her impossibly long legs kicking gently in the air, "Everyone's looking for you in Glee,"<p>

Rachel sighed and let her boyfriend sit down beside her before dropping her head on his shoulder, shutting her eyes serenely. Thankfully she'd had a change of clothes, her emergency bag was still stowed in the back of her locker (which had been left unused for a few weeks) and managed to do something with her hair. It was still limp at the ends where her curls usually bounced freely, and although she looked like she could face the public again – she just…couldn't.

"How about we just go back, okay? You sing a solo, be happy and we'll talk afterward, okay?"

"Singing a solo won't improve my mood state at this moment in time, Finn."

"Oh," He frowned and wrapped his arm around her waist, effectively pulling her closer, "Well, do you want to talk about it? Maybe it'll make you feel better."

"You wouldn't understand," Rachel sighed gently and pulled her head away from Finn's comforting shoulder. She couldn't do with being that close to him, not now, not after everything that had happened.

"Is this about yesterday? I said I was sorry. I was going to apologize but Quinn walked in and-," He glanced over at his girlfriend when he realized she'd begun sobbing, "Uh…what did I say?" He clutched tighter at her waist and bent down to look at her lowered face, "Hey, talk to me?"

She took a shuddering breath in and wiped the tears that had fallen at her cheeks with the sleeves of her sweater, "You'll hate me," She whispered, desperately weak.

"I could never hate you, Rach."

And that just made her want to cry all over again; how could she be with someone so loving when she couldn't even keep her eyes and feelings on him? How had her mind suddenly gone from wanting Finn to wanting ihis/i ex-girlfriend. It wasn't as if she had an issue with being gay, because hello, two gay dads, but the fact that it was the ex-president of the celibacy club, cheerleading captain, all around Christian Quinn Fabray, it made her want to jump into a hole and stay there.

Finn stayed silent as she regained her breath and composed herself – which usually wouldn't have taken her long, but the fact that she was trying to stall for time on what to say next, helped a little. Would she really tell him that she was feeling something more than friendship toward Quinn? Or would she just lie and pretend it didn't happen; pretend to make happy families with Finn Hudson, the boy who loved her, the boy who had already been through enough heartache when it came to Quinn Fabray.

"Are you okay now?"

"No, no I'm not Finn," Rachel sighed and braced herself to stand up, prompting Finn to move his arm away. The sudden lack of warmth from him made her shiver, but she put it down to what she was about to do. Standing and moving as far away as he possibly could, she kept her back to him and steadied herself, hands clutched in front of her.

"You're breaking up with me," He said gently over his shoulder, but his tone held no malice.

"It's not because of you, it's me." Gently she chucked to herself, "How clique, I'm quoting every romantic novel and film."

"Don't make a joke out of this," Finn slowly trailed off before continuing, "Not now…"

"I'm sorry," Rachel slowly turned to regard him. He wasn't looking over his shoulder anymore, he faced forward, leaning forward on his elbows, his head dropped to look at the auditorium floor, "But really, it's nothing to do with you."

"So this isn't because I pressured you into having sex?"

Rachel shook her head, "No…not at all, I swear." With a gentle sigh, she looked down to her hands and wrung them, "I just finally realized some things that I hadn't before,"

"Like what?"

"I have feelings for someone else," She slammed her eyes shut and waited…and waited…and a full minute had passed before she finally head Finn reply.

"I know,"

Rachel's eyes snapped open and she stared at the back of Finn's head, completely stupefied. It wasn't everyday that someone shocked Rachel Berry into wordlessness, but somehow someone like Finn Hudson had done it. She watched him rise to his feet and turned to look at her.

"I may be a little slow – I mean, I thought I could get a girl pregnant from hot tub water," He shrugged and pushed his hands into his jeans, "But why did you fight for me for so long when you knew that you liked someone else?"

"I only figured this out a few days ago…" She whispered gently.

Finn smiled gently and nodded, "I think you've always known, I mean…" He kicked the toe of his sneaker against the stage, "You always found a way to protect her," Rachel's jaw dropped, "You told her you'd be her friend when she treated you like dirt." Finn shrugged, "I never understood it, probably never will – but I can't change it, can I?"

"H-How did you-,"

"Know it was Quinn?" Finn shook his head and sighed, "The way you've been looking at her recently – you can't seem to take your eyes off of her. And whenever she's with Sam you just seem to…shut down."

"I-,"

"You don't need to say anything," Slowly he moved toward her, letting the silence envelop them both before he came to a stop before her. He looked down at her and smiled, but she knew it was forced, "Just promise me you won't let her treat you like dirt."

"I don't even know if she feels the same way…"

"You're Rachel Berry." Finn smiled and rested his hands on Rachel's shoulders gently, "You'll find a way to figure it out." Then his hands left her shoulders, and fell limply at his sides, "I'll just…go now, okay?" He turned to leave, "Can you tell Mr. Schue I wasn't feeling well or something?"

"Of course."

"Thanks."

She felt her heart break as she watched him walk away, "Finn?"

He stopped and turned, but not fully, he wouldn't let her see the tears that were falling down his cheeks, "Yeah…?"

"She didn't stick up for me today."

She didn't need to explain, she knew Finn understood. So she watched him nod, take in a deep breath and continue his trek out of the auditorium, "Is she worth it then?" Then left, letting the door fall shut gently behind him.

* * *

><p>"Girl, why are you out of uniform?"<p>

Quinn looked at Mercedes over her shoulder and smiled, "Just got fed up with it."

One brow shot up questionably, "Serious…?"

"Yup. Serious."

"Damn girl, it's about time. I was fed up of seeing you in that damn uniform all the time," Mercedes patted her on the shoulder, "And to see your hair down. Quinn you look so much better with your hair down, girl."

The blonde laughed and gently took a lock of her curled blonde hair between two fingers, "You think?"

"Damn straight."

"Thanks, Mercedes."

Mercedes smiled, and Quinn watched as her friend's eyes flicked up quickly toward the choir room doors, "Damn, has she been crying?"

The blonde's head quickly snapped toward Rachel who was stood beside Mr. Schue, explaining why Finn couldn't make it to Glee practice due to sickness. She frowned, because she'd only seen Finn fifteen minutes ago when he went to go find his girlfriend and he seemed fine then. But the way Rachel sat down, furthest away from anyone in the club and crossed her arms defensively over her chest, made her realize that something was really wrong.

Glee Club went faster than usual – maybe because Finn wasn't making mistakes and his dancing talent – or lack of—wasn't keeping the whole club behind. They finished twenty minutes before schedule and Mr. Schue let the group go.

Quinn purposely stayed behind, saying a quick goodbye to Mercedes and Brittany as they left. Rachel was rifling through her bag, putting her notebook back and making sure it was in its proper place before zipping it up.

Rachel stood up, and Quinn made to move to block her from leaving, but a gentle vibration against her leg made her freeze.

_Damn, not now."_

The PAD vibrated gently against her leg, she reached into her pocket, keeping her eye on the brunette who moved toward the door with purpose. Glancing down at the PAD, she read the read-out;

_December 30th, 1994._

"Why do you want me there? I'm not dying," She groaned, looking up briefly. With sigh, she realized she was alone. Rachel had left and it looked as if she wasn't coming – not that Quinn had the time to look for her.

Biting her bottom lip she held back a groan of frustration – how could she talk to Rachel now? How could she sort out the situation of Santana stuck in 1556?

Clutching the PAD tightly in her hand, so tightly in fact she thought she would shatter the metal, she squeezed her eyes shut and felt herself be taken away.


	7. Chapter 6

The first thing Quinn noticed was that it was cold - colder than it should have been. She figured that the winter's from her time were nothing compared to the ones in 1994; but that thought didn't change the fact she was freezing. She thanked her lucky stripes that she wasn't stuck in that god awful cheerleading uniform anymore and that she was wearing boots that could handle the thickness of the snow beneath her feet.

At first she didn't know where she was, and after wandering the streets for a little while, she realized she was on the opposite side of town from both her house and McKinley High. The town looked the same, except for a few houses that had been developed over the years weren't there - obviously. She even noticed a few of the town's inhabitants, especially a mail man that had disappeared when she was fifteen.

He was casually making his rounds, pulling his scarf tightly around his neck as he went from mailbox to mailbox, his heavy snow boots crunching in the pure white snow at his feet. He looked exhausted simply dragging his feet through the snow, and as Quinn walked by him, dragging her own feet, she realized that she wouldn't be able to last long out in this weather.

For one, she needed a jacket, and another, she needed to know why the hell she was transported to 1994.

Then she stopped in her tracks. 1994? The year she was born? Sighing to herself, she realized she'd have to avoid the Fabray residence and the Fabray's at all cost - although by now she'd be at least a few months old, seeing herself even as a baby might effect the future and she didn't really want to mess around with that. The future was screwed up enough as it was where she was concerned.

She continued to walk through the residential area, her hands stuffed deep in her jeans pockets, trying, but failing to fight off the cold. Luckily, the snow had stopped, but the cold chill that accompanied the breeze was just as worse.

Her feet automatically stopped when she came across a park - she'd never seen it, not even as a little girl, but in a way she didn't have to know of it's existence - on her side of town there was an even bigger park and plenty of play area's for the children…with rich parents.

"What am I suppose to do…?" She glanced over both shoulders and shrugged half-heartedly, trudging through the snow and into the open gates of the park. Naturally, it was deserted, save for a few people walking dogs along the open fields. She sat down on one of the wooden benches, taking her time to wipe off the accumulation of snow before sitting.

It was weird, being in a time that she was only suppose to be a 7 month old baby. The surroundings that she hadn't been able to remember from being a child, was seeing through 17 year old eyes. It was quite trippy, if she was being honest - if only the 'baby' her would know what she'd go through later on in life. The popularity, the bullying, the boyfriends, her own baby…

"Damn it," Quinn sighed and leant her elbows down on her knees, cupping her chin in her palms - the wind only half bothering her now. What was she doing here? Had the PAD malfunctioned? It wasn't as if her life was being threatened - in fact, it was going quite well. She hadn't been killed in a whole day; that had to be a record, right?

A jacket was thrust in front of her face, and she involuntary flinched back, staring up at the person in front of her. With a heavy sigh, she snatched the jacket away and pulled it on.

"What do you want?"

**"I often come to this time, to this place."**

She finished zipping up her jacket, a heavy duty snow jacket that almost made her body turn into a furnace as soon as she'd put it on. She stuffed her hands into the pockets and leaned back casually on the bench, but not making enough room for Homunculus to sit down.

"And why is that?"

**"I have my reasons, of course, it was the year of your birth."**

Quinn's eyes rolled spectacularly, "Why don't you go back to the time I was conceived? I'm sure that'd be a sight for sore eyes."

**"I saw you being conceived."**

"Okay, that's just gross." The blonde shook, but not from the cold, "So why are you here? And more importantly, why am I here?"

**"Although I've made it seem as if the world revolves around you, Quinn. It is not."**

"My heart is wounded."

Homunculus chucked and ran a hand slowly through his hair, **"Although I may have the power to move through time, my body is fragile and quite weak."**

"What does that have to do with me?"

The pale being didn't reply, and simply sat down beside Quinn, effectively making her move up. It was uncomfortable, and the glowing red of his eyes made her feel as if she was talking with the devil. She felt dirty, and seriously considered going to a church and saying a few hail Mary's.

**"You know, I picked up a baby the other day, and it completely exhausted me. I could only hold it for a few seconds."**

Quinn narrowed her eyes and stared at Homunculus, "Why were you picking up a baby?"

**"I wanted to know what it felt like to hold new life," **Homunculus smiled,** "Of course, you would know all about that, wouldn't you?"**

The blonde remembered the day she gave birth to her baby daughter, how much pain she went through, and then the feeling of complete and utter pleasure when she finally held Beth in her arms. Both overjoyed and distraught, she smiled through tears at her, then burst out crying when the newborn actually smiled up at her.

"Yeah…I know."

**"I am here to tell you not to try and change your past.**

The sudden change of subject made Quinn shake her head, "What? Why would I do that?"

**"I don't know, but most people would love the chance to start from scratch - to return with a new life. I must tell you now not to change anything."**

Quinn sighed, watching as her breath escaped her own lips in a puff of smoke. "Why are you so adamant I don't? You said I could change my fate, why can't I change this aspect of it?" She turned on the bench, left leg crossed on the bench as she faced the black dressed man, "Why can I change if I die or not, when I can't even change the way I grew up?"

**"As I said many times, Quinn, you're vital to the bigger picture."**

"For example?"

**"I take it you will not heed my warning unless I tell you?"** Homunculus laughed dryly, his disjointed tones making Quinn shiver in her seat. She just nodded and watched as Homunculus' eyes scanned her. The gaze was unnerving, and the way his eyes narrowed from time to time made her just want to run away. How could she put her trust in a man who seemed so disjointed from reality and kept secrets from her?

**"You must talk with Dr. Russell - he will tell you why you are needed, and why you must survive."**

"Why him? I'm hundred's of years in the future, why am I needed by him?"

**"You were there, in his time, before you were even born in 1994."** As he watched Quinn's mouth drop open, he chuckled lightly to himself and stood, albeit a little slowly, **"You must understand that a timeline isn't one straight line. There a many complex lines of time, one of which you're currently in. They intertwine. So when you were there with Dr. Russell in 1556, you were already born in the future, hence why you were there. "**

"So…" Quinn stood up too, hands clenched in her pockets as she stood beside Homunculus, "You're saying that…the future is planned out? I was in his time…because of the acts on my life in my time?"

**"Bingo."** He smiled and turned to face her fully, watching as her eyes swam with confusion, **"You shouldn't worry yourself too much with the technical side of this, Quinn. What you must do, is continue on, and don't change any aspect of your life from the past, otherwise the timeline will change."**

"But why can't I? I already changed it enough by travelling through time."

**"Because if you do, you won't be able to speak to Dr. Russell, and he's vital to the bigger picture, such as yourself."**

Quinn groaned and stomped away from Homunculus. The damn guy was speaking in riddles, he only gave her more questions than answers, and the whole timeline definition was giving her a splitting headache.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm only a prop in this whole thing?"

She waited patiently for a reply, hoping that he'd have some sort of answer for her. But when no reply came, she turned on the heels of her boots and came face to face with open space. Homunculus was no longer there, and all that stood before her was acres of snow.

"I'll get the answers out of you someday," She groaned out between clenched teeth, "Mark my words."

* * *

><p>It was stupid, she knew she shouldn't have done it. Honestly, she couldn't remember getting to the house, what route she took or how she made it without feeling her legs going numb. The snow was falling heavily, and thick clogs of snow stuck in her blonde hair, curling it with the moisture.<p>

The fact she couldn't feel the tip of her nose hardly effected her - her eyes were glued to the scene before her. Her old room - the one she'd had all her life before her father moved out - and the man himself, bent over an antique cot that had been handed down the generations of Fabray's.

The fact she was wearing a massively bulky coat didn't help her being in the shadows from her seat on a tree branch. But Russell's attention seemed to be kept on the cot - at first she didn't even know if she was in the cot; that her father was checking out a nick in the wood or something, but when his arms sunk into the deep cot, she realized she was in there.

Damn…she'd been a chubby baby.

She cringed when a puffy cheeked baby was pulled from the cot and then enveloped in her father's strong arms. Russell took a seat in a chair by the bedroom door and smiled down at the baby Fabray.

The tears came before she even had time to stop them - but she wasn't sobbing from the scene. She was sobbing about the loss of her father. She hadn't really come to terms with losing her father - instead she had focused on herself, getting herself back into shape after having Beth. It never really clicked that he was really gone, and definitely wouldn't be coming back.

She couldn't even remember the last time her father had genuinely held her just for the sake of it. The memories of whenever she fell and grazed her knee, or when she'd trapped her finger in her dollhouse, and her father being there, crouched down beside her, kissing away the pain and smiling that smile that always seemed to make the world feel great again. Those were just memories. There would be no more - so as she watched her father glance down serenely at baby Quinn, she said a quiet goodbye. Because in a few years, Russell wouldn't be like that anymore.

Patiently, she waited until Russell left the room after being called away by Judy - whom hadn't changed in the seventeen years that Quinn had been born. She pushed open the window and ever so carefully adjusted herself so she could jump into the room in one leap. It took a few deep breaths - she hadn't jumped from the window since she was fifteen after she was grounded and wanted to go out and see both Santana and Brittany.

She bashed her shin jumping for the window sill, and after biting back a groan of pain, she pulled herself into the room and settled herself down on the ground - careful to avoid the creaking part of the floors that she remembered.

"What am I doing here…?" Quinn asked herself helplessly, slowly making her way toward the cot, "Why am I here…?" She bent over the cot and stared down at herself - she truly was a chubby baby…really chubby. She had no hair, only a few tufts here and there, and her body wrapped so tightly in her childhood blanket that Quinn felt jumping in the cot and joining in on the nap.

She was both mentally and physically exhausted, and looking down at the baby version of herself was giving in her a headache. Any normal person would think they were going crazy - how could someone go back into the past and see things they weren't suppose to see? It was absurd.

Resting her forearms on the side of the cot, she sighed heavily, allowing her body to completely relax. Although it was trippy, and seriously weird, they was an odd sense of comfort that came from being stood next to baby Quinn - a child that was so pure, that hadn't been tainted by popularity and bad choices. It was a fresh start, right in front of her eyes.

But she knew she couldn't change her destiny - if what Homunculus had said was true, she was needed for something; what, she didn't know yet, but she wasn't willing to change anything. And for all she knew, she could change her destiny into something worse, something worse than being pregnant at sixteen and one of the biggest bitches in school. She chuckled to herself - knowing her, she would make things ten times as worse if she had the chance.

"You have no idea how weird this is…talking to you…" Quinn sighed, resting her forehead down on her forearms, "I know you won't understand anything I'm about to tell you; in a way, there's no point even talking to you, but it's relaxing just being able to talk to someone who will…kind of know what I'm talking about." She rose her head and propped her chin on her right hand, eyes trained on baby Quinn, "I tried to make different choices, but I couldn't. I wanted to be popular, I wanted to have the quarterback boyfriend, I wanted everyone to fear me. I thought it would make me happy, but when it did, I just felt empty.

"I felt so empty, so I just burrowed deeper into this façade that I'd made for myself. I terrorized people, I made them feel weak, just because I didn't want them to realize how weak I truly was," Wiping a tear away, she stood up tall, "In a way, I've always been weak. I tried to hide myself, the true me, because I was scared that people would think badly of me."

She ran a hand down and gently brushed her fingertips through the blonde tufts of hair, "I feel okay telling you, because one day, you'll feel just like this. You'll be going through all of this…" She pulled her hand away, shut her eyes and turned around, leaning her back against the side of the cot. "I tried to stop it, I really did - all the praying I did was stupid, praying to God that he could stop what was happening to me…but every time I saw her…"

Glancing over her shoulder, she sighed when she realized the baby was still asleep, "I can't deny the fact…that…I'm gay…" She turned back around and leaned down, "So whatever you do, don't try to deny it…because if you do, you'll just lose yourself, just like I did…"

The baby wriggled gently within the cot, and in reflex, Quinn flew back, keeping a safe distance from the baby as she adjusted herself within her blanket, eyes still squeezed shut.

"Try not to be so cruel to her…that's all I ask, okay?"

* * *

><p><strong>"You truly believe that will change something?"<strong>

Quinn stopped in her tracks, glancing over her shoulder half-heartedly, "No…but it was worth a shot, right?" She continued on, forging her own path through streets and endless paths, trying to find somewhere to go.

**"The child was a baby, everything you said meant nothing."**

"It meant something to me," She turned a corner that she took on her daily run.

**"Still, nothing will change."**

She ran over an empty road, jumping up onto the snow caked sidewalk in her study boots. She was ankle deep now, and the snow didn't seem to be letting up, and for some reason a thick fog had begun to descent, blanketing the surrounding area.

"Why are you even here? It's not like you're going to tell me anything, or why the hell I'm in this time."

**"I cannot take your journey for you."**

Quinn stopped in her tracks, body rigid, stock still. She heard Homunculus stop behind her also, except for the light crunching of his boots against the snow, the air around the two was completely still.

The blonde's body began to shake - 'journey'? A fucking _journey_? Her fists clenched tightly at her sides and she tried with every inch of will she had to not turn around and punch the annoying-,

With a heavy sigh, she turned on her heels and stared at him, eyes ablaze with a hidden anger that threatened to spill over. "A journey? That's what you'd call this…_thing_." Her voice was calm, although it shook in some areas, and her hands still hung clenched at her sides.

**"It is a journey, Quinn. Who else has the chance to travel through time and space at will?"**

"Someone," She gritted through perfectly white teeth, "who isn't me."

**"You're quite an angry person."** Homunculus began to slowly walk toward her, but stopped when Quinn rose a hand, palm facing him. He stopped, realizing he wouldn't get any closer without making his body even weaker then it already was.

"I'm an angry person? I'm Iangry/I because of this thing you're putting me through! When I ask for answers, you only tell me half the story, when I think I'm getting somewhere, you start talking in riddles! Angry? Oh, I'm more than angry."

**"You were angry, before this whole thing began."** When he saw the blonde's eyes go wide, he continued, hoping to continue before she went off on one again, **"Your life is far from perfect, although you like people to think it is. The popular blonde head cheerleader, the cheerleader that everyone is terrified of."**

"I'm not a cheerleader anymore."

**"And that suddenly changes your outlook on life?"**

Did it? Although she wasn't a cheerleader, she was still the same person. Sure, she didn't have the persona that came with being the Captain of the Cheerio's anymore. She didn't have to be the HBIC, but really, that's all she knew how to be; the person that was feared among others, the one that was above everyone else at McKinley. She outgrew being a Fabray long ago, she was just Quinn, the Captain, the Cheerleader. Nothing else.

**"I see I've given you a lot to think about."**

Quinn's chin dropped to her chest as she squeezed her eyes shut, suddenly feeling the cold around her once more. "I changed because,-"

**"You haven't changed, Quinn. Far from it. Removing one aspect of your personality doesn't re-write your whole persona."**

With a heavy sigh, she opened her eyes and watched as her breath floated away amongst the snowfall, "Then what do I do? Why am I here in this time? If I can't change my childhood, then why am I here?"

**"You don't have to change the past to change the future. I will return."**

"What?" Quinn's head snapped up, but Homunculus was already shimmering away, "No! You have to explain something to me!"

But he was gone.

* * *

><p>She was wandering again, and now, more than ever, she was lost. Conflicted by raging emotions inside her body, and her head trying to sort out all the information that Homunculus had given her. It was confusing, but more then that, irritating.<p>

True, she should have known that leaving the Cheerio's wouldn't solve _all_ her problems. After all, most of the things she'd done, was of her own bidding, she was just wearing her uniform to allow her to get away with it. It wasn't as if her uniform was making her pick up a slushy cup, or making her issue out orders to Santana and the other Cheerio's to make certain individuals lives hell.

Rachel.

That was the one person she'd really given her all to. She'd been relentless, all because she was petrified about the feelings she was feeling. But no, she didn't want to blame her feelings on the way she acted - it was a scapegoat. No, the real reason she made Rachel's life hell was because she was so intrigued by how the young diva just…came back.

Time after time, slushy after slushy, the brunette returned and offered a hand of friendship to her. At first, she only bullied Rachel because…obviously…two gay dads + annoying little diva = dysfunctional family. The lessons that had been engraved in her head since birth, her father detested the Berry's for their perverted lifestyle, so naturally, Quinn continued the reign through school. So she bullied the brunette for that sole reason - then after that, just because she wanted to see how far she could push the singer until she reached breaking point.

She'd done it for so long, she didn't realize the diva actually Ihad/I a breaking point. So the torment continued, just as it had all those other days, weeks, months, years before, just like clockwork.

It was endearing actually, to see Rachel coming back, offering her friendship - a truce. The brunette's hand of friendship made something inside Quinn feel funny; at first, she just pinned it down to unveiling another reaction to her torment, but then it started to feel as if she was being hit in the gut. Whenever she saw those shining brown eyes or heard that pitch perfect voice belting out another show tune, something inside her made her feel an overwhelming guilt for actually picking on the singer.

Then she hit the diva's breaking point - and by that time, although she'd already…semi…admitted to herself how she felt about Rachel, it hurt a whole lot more than it actually should have.

The look on Rachel's face when she said nothing to stop Nicole when she dragged the brunette into a nearby toilet and shoved her head into it. Instead, she'd waited until the four senior Cheerio's had gone, and _then_ tried to make things better. She'd been desperate, using a tone of voice she didn't even use when she was pregnant. It was pure desperation.

_I need you to look at me, Rachel…_

She'd been forcing back tears, so close to just resting her head on the diva's back, cradling herself away from the pain around her. But then Rachel had left, and she felt more lost than ever. But this just took it to a whole new level.

"Fuck," Quinn hardly cursed, but for some reason, it felt as it was needed in the situation. Santana was still missing, she was stuck in 1994 with no idea _what_ the hell to do, and all she wanted to do was go back to her own time, fall asleep and forget any of this had ever happened.

She wanted to see Rachel.

"R-," She gasped, "Rachel!" Taking of with a speed she didn't know was possible with the still rising snow, she ran toward the direction of the Berry house. The young girl was born by then, that much was true. She must be at her house. This had something to do with Rachel, she knew it, she felt it.

It took longer than it should have to get to Rachel's house, and by the time she was standing out on the sidewalk in front of the small, but quaint two story home, she was sweating from the run, and the coat wrapped around her made her feel sticky and horrible.

There was no car in the drive, but most of the cars were usually put into garages during winter. It saved a lot of time defrosting the cars when they could be used again.

She rushed up the front door and pounded her fists down on the dark brown wood, then stopped. What the hell was she going to say? She couldn't exactly say 'Oh hey, I'm Quinn Fabray. I'm only a few months old but I was wondering if I could see your baby?'

Yeah, right. Fat chance.

There was no answer though - half of her was relieved, the other half, not so much. The Berry's weren't in, her thought of Rachel being the clue died along with the closed door. She turned to walk away when she came face to face with two men and a woman.

"Holy," Quinn bit her bottom lip quickly - she knew that woman. Shelby Corcoran. She looked younger, naturally, and she looked a lot bigger than when she'd seen her. And Quinn all knew to well that the woman was still carrying Rachel's baby weight around with her. It took the blonde months to work off all that weight - still…her abs had yet to return.

Damn Puck to hell.

"Can I help you, young lady?" One of the Berry's asked, the smaller looking man, glasses shoved up his nose with a gloved hand. His husband, a taller black man stood staring at the blonde, almost as if he'd seen her before.

"Uh…I was just…offering…my congratulations."

"Ah," The taller Berry responded, taking a quick glance to Shelby before moving forward, "Thank you." He seemed to almost smirk, "your name is…?"

"Q-," Shit. She paused, "Jennifer." She cringed, how did she go from Q to J?

"Pleased to meet you 'Jennifer'," Oh God, he knew she was lying, "And how did you know about the birth of our daughter?"

"I…" Once again, she paused and spared a glance at both Shelby and the other Berry father. She was forcing herself to think quickly, but nothing would come. She literally had brain freeze.

But he seemed to take it easy on her, "Anyway," He clasped his hands together, "Yes, Rachel was born a few days ago."

"Rachel…"

The tall man grinned widely, "A beautiful baby girl, isn't that right?" He glanced over his shoulder quickly at Shelby, who nodded slightly half-heartedly. "A beautiful girl," He looked back at Quinn, "Right?"

Quinn's mouth dropped.

"Would you like to come in for a warm drink? You look chilled to the bone," The smaller Berry asked from behind his husband, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

"Oh, no…I'm fine. Thank you for asking though." She paused slightly, trying to keep her eyes away from the taller Berry father that seemed to be staring down at her, "Where…" she coughed slightly, "is your daughter anyway?"

All three adult's smiles seemed to fade, and Quinn immediately felt as if she'd stepped into something less than nice. The three seemed to shut down momentarily, but Shelby regained her composure first, "She's still at the hospital."

"Oh?" Quinn's brow furrowed, Rachel loved to talk about herself but she never mentioned anything about staying in hospital after her birth.

"She was born premature, a week premature. It's nothing serious, they just want to keep her in under observation." Shelby sighed gently and scuffed the toe of her boot again the snow, "She was so small."

"Yes, but she'll get bigger with time. She is a Berry after all." The shorter man piped up, "Oh, how rude of us. We haven't even introduced ourselves. I'm Aaron Berry, this is my husband Jeremiah."

"Just call me Jerry," The taller man butted in, his magnificent grin back on his face. It reminded Quinn of Rachel's picture perfect smile, and it made the blonde's heart skip a beat.

"And this is Shelby Corcoran." Aaron gestured to his left, "Rachel's mother."

"Pleased to meet you," Quinn smiled. _Again._

"Are you sure you don't want to come in for a coffee?" Jerry asked, already reaching for the keys in his coat pocket.

"Oh, no, thank you. I have to be getting home."

"Don't get caught up in this weather," Shelby butted in, "There's a storm forecast."

Quinn nodded, "I won't. But thank you for warning me." She smiled at the two men and then at Shelby in a gestured goodbye, before walking away.

Rachel was still in the hospital.

* * *

><p>Shelby wasn't lying about a storm being forecast - she'd got halfway across town before a huge cloud of snow began to descend upon her. It was heavy, and clumped unnecessarily in her hair and on her shoulders, almost pushing her down into the snow beneath her feet. The blonde was almost shin deep; she knew she wouldn't get further in about an hour or so. She'd have to get to the hospital and stay there, then hope the PAD worked to get her to go back to her time.<p>

The hospital was like a shining beacon in the distance - and Quinn felt herself being pulled by an extraordinary force toward the haven. Her muscles were burning with overuse, her body felt tired and lethargic - parts of her wished she'd taken the Berry's offer of a drink.

But then part of her wanted to see if Rachel was_ really_ okay. Something in Shelby's eyes had made her feel a little bit of terror when she thought of the tiny little girl stuck in the hospital. Rachel loved to talk about herself, every aspect of her life - especially her elaborate childhood littered with trophies and journey's of self-discovery…but never had she mentioned anything about being a premature baby.

And the way Jerry had stared at her - the look of 'I-know-what-and-who-you-are' look almost made her want to run off into the distance and never look back. But if what Homunculus had said was right, in the past, she was already there, because of her actions in the future. There wasn't just one timeline, but an infinite number. Her future had already happened, she just hadn't lived it yet. So…if Jerry knew who she was, did that mean she'd been further into the past and seen Rachel's father?

It was mind-boggling, and the heat from the heater over her head as she walked into the hospital made her snap back to reality. She'd walked, pretty easily, the rest of the way without even knowing it.

Quickly, she divested herself of her coat and slung it over her arm. Where would she start? It wasn't as if she was a newbie when it came to hospitals, she'd broken and fractured plenty of bones growing up and during Cheerio training. The particular time when she had been at the bottom of the pyramid (she'd yet to be made Captain then) and she'd lost her grip on the grass beneath her hands. The pyramid had toppled, and she hadn't registered the pain in her ribs until all the Cheerio's had jumped off of her.

She'd dislocated two ribs and broken one of them, all from landing awkwardly.

She'd been to the hospital enough times to memorize the place - but how would she get to see Rachel without being a direct member of her family? Could she lie again and get away with it? No, they'd probably ask for ID. But then again, it was 1994, things were a little laxer back in the day.

Casually (or trying to look casual) she walked to the reception desk and leaned her forearms on the counter, glancing down at the raven haired heavily pregnant woman behind it, who seemed to be preoccupied with both the phone and something on the computer.

"Okay…" She glanced up at Quinn and raised her index finger, "Yes, I'm sorry but…" The woman sighed gently, "Yes. Well, like I said, you should ring back tomorrow when the storm has settled down." She glanced back up at Quinn, "I'm sorry Mr. Rogers but I can't send out an ambulance because you have the hiccups."

Quinn almost laughed, but instead, held out her hand. The woman glanced at her like she was somehow a foreign object before eventually handing over the phone.

"Mr. Rogers?" Quinn smiled to herself, "Yeah…Oh I understand that…" Slowly she leaned over the counter and clicked down on the release button, then handed the phone back to the gob smacked secretary.

"We're not allowed to release calls."

"Would you rather waste time on him, or give your time to someone who _actually_ needs an ambulance?"

The young woman smiled, "True." She placed the phone back on the cradle and looked up at Quinn, "So…what can I help you with?"

"I was wondering if I would be able to see my…niece."

"Okay," The woman looked down at her computer and grabbed the mouse, "What's her name?"

"Rachel Berry."

"One moment…" The woman's perfectly manicured nails tapped down on the keyboard, and Quinn tapped the tip of her index finger in sequence against the counter. "I'm sorry but there's no Rachel Berry on record."

"Huh?" Quinn almost launched herself over the counter to look at the screen, but stopped herself at the last minute, "Uh…well…she was born only a week ago."

The woman shrugged gently, "I'm sorry, but we don't have that name on file."

Quinn sighed heavily and ran her hand through the wet tips of her blonde hair, "Wait!" She smiled, "Look for Rachel Corcoran."

"One moment," She typed again, and Quinn waited impatiently for the woman get back to her, "Yes, we do have a Rachel Corcoran on file." She glanced up, green eyes shining, "You'd like to see her?"

"Yes please." Damn, this was easier than she expected. It was so much harder in her time - you had to literally prove you were a member of the family, and even then it had to be direct family.

"Third floor, neonatal unit, ward two. Speak to one of the nurses up there, they'll direct you."

"Thank you," She glanced at the woman's name tag, "Maria."

"You're welcome."

As she walked away and entered the elevator, clicking for the third floor, it finally hit her.

"Holy crap, that was Santana's mom!"

* * *

><p>The neonatal unit wasn't incredibly large, but large enough to get lost in. Quinn had never been up this floor before, so she had no idea where to go. She happened to stumble upon the front desk, a rather regal looking woman sat behind it. Her glasses were perched upon the tip of her nose, hand cradling her chin as she filled in some paperwork. Her dark blonde hair, going grey at the temples, hung gently in a low ponytail.<p>

Sharp blue eyes snapped up to Quinn, and the woman sat up a little straighter, "Visiting hours are over for this unit."

Quinn almost flinched at her tone, and for some reason she was reminded of Coach Sylvester, "I won't be long."

"I'm sorry, but no one is exempt from the rule - too much noise wakes the children."

"If I swear I'll be quiet can I just see someone? I promise I won't be long, just a few minutes. I only just found out she was born premature."

"And you are?"

"The baby's aunt."

The woman's eyes slowly slid up and down the girl's body, and involuntarily she shivered at the dress down, "I'm sorry, but no."

"Please," Quinn asked desperately, forgetting her pride at the elevator doors, "Just a few minutes. I'll take one minute if you'll give me it."

The nurse sighed and twirled the pen in her left hand, deftly flicking it between one finger to the next. "One minute." She stood and raised an index finger, "One. That's all. No more begging for more time, I'll have you removed by security."

"One minute is all I need."

The older woman nodded and walked around the front desk, gesturing Quinn to follow her. And although the young blonde was seventeen, she reverted to her childhood for just a few seconds - she stuck her tongue out as soon as the nurse wasn't looking.

Okay, so Shelby had been a little over the top when she said Rachel was tiny. Sure, the baby was small, after all, she was a week premature - but she wasn't _tiny_.

Rachel was in a little incubator off into the corner of the room, her body open to the gentle heat that the machine was giving. A small tube wrapped around her face and disappeared up her nose - but it didn't seem as if she needed help breathing. Quinn counted the number of times her chest rose and fell, and it seemed to be in the right range for a child.

The blonde felt like laughing - even as a baby Rachel refused to be beaten.

But God, it was weird. The brunette, who only had a few minor strands of white blonde hair dusted amongst her head, looked a shadow of the woman she would become. It wasn't as if she was looking at Rachel. For one, it was quiet. But it was weird in the respect that she felt as if she was invading the diva's privacy. Quinn shouldn't have been privy to this sort of information, and in a way, she shouldn't even have thought about lying being Rachel's family. It was just wrong.

"So if you're alright, why am I here?" She whispered half to herself and half to Rachel. The baby didn't stir, and tempted beyond belief, she pushed her hand slowly into one of the slots, and gently took Rachel's tiny hand in her own. "Wow," Quinn brushed her thumb along the tiny fingers and smiled, "How could I make your life hell, Rachel…?"

Peering down at Rachel, she hoped the young baby would open up her eyes and somehow respond, but naturally, nothing came. In her distraction, she didn't hear the nurse come up behind her and mutter that it was time to leave.

It killed her to release Rachel's hand - the only real contact she'd had with her over 17 years.

And as she walked out of the hospital, her coat wrapped tightly around her, she realized how much she hated herself for hurting her.

**"How did that feel…?"**

She was still stood by the hospital entrance, which was deserted due to the snow. Luckily the small roof above her head managed to keep the snow away from her, and so she just leant up against the wall and relaxed, until Homunculus' voice washed over her.

"Was that the reason I was sent here?"

**"No."**

Quinn sighed.

**"But why did you come here…? What made you think that your friend would be the cause of your need to be here?"**

The blonde shrugged.

She heard Homunculus sigh, which sounded almost distorted, **"Are you any closer to knowing who has been trying to kill you?"**

Quinn's eyes snapped open and she stared at the pale being before her, "Is that why I'm here?"

Homunculus smiled,b**"How should I know…?"**

"My killer…is in this time?"

**"Maybe,"**

"Is it someone I know?" Quinn pushed away from the wall, "If you know who it is I want to know! I need to stop these attempts on my life!"

**"I do not know the specifics, maybe you should ask around?"**

Quinn laughed humourlessly, "Oh yeah people will know the name of my killer seventeen years before the first attempt is made!"

**"Community Centre's are full of people with information. Why don't you go ask at one?"**

"Are you high?"

Homunculus laughed ever so gently, **"Good luck…Quinn."**

Then he shimmered from view, leaving her more confused than she already had been.

* * *

><p>It took an hour and a half to walk two blocks to the nearest Community Centre. It was open, thankfully, and they welcomed here with open arms. A charming man took her coat, gave her a hot cup of coffee and ushered her over to a nearby seat, ordering her (with a smile) not to move until she'd warmed up.<p>

She was relieved, the pain in her muscles was already beginning to die down, and the coffee warmed her body with the much needed heat that it so desperately craved. Surrounded by the bustling amount of people around her, she allowed herself to sink back into her seat and relax. No one knew her here, she was anonymous. In her time she was known all around town as one of the Fabray's. But here, she was just another visitor, another person that existed.

"Did you need help?" The same man from before, a old gentleman, his hair a particularly stark white colour, almost as clean as the snow outside, and his eyes wide and crinkled from the smile he wore almost permanently on his face. She wondered if she would be that happy at his age (if she made it that far)

"Oh…uh," She glanced around, sipping at her coffee to stall the rest of her sentence. What was she going to say? It's not like she could ask if she knew any murderers in the vicinity. I mean, honestly.

Then something caught her eye. She had to move around the old man's body to get a better look, but she definitely knew the person that was walking toward the back of the centre.

"Oh, I just needed to see someone." She glanced up at the man and smiled, "I've found them though so," She placed her mug down on the table in front of her and stood.

_Homonculus, you sly devil._

It wasn't as if she hated being in these places, but it kind of concreted the fact as to why she was there. It wasn't as if she could go to her mother or father to ask about it, or to get some advice, after all, they didn't really care. They acted as if she didn't exist anyway, too busy with their own things to care about the daughter, or the other one at that.

No, they didn't even want to acknowledge that they had children, and at times, it was fine by her. She'd managed quite well by herself over the past few years, and now she was a woman. Just the fact it took her till middle age to realize that didn't matter.

She glanced down at her sister and smiled, leaning down to kiss her gently on the forehead, "You okay, Jeanie?"

"Good," Jean Sylvester glanced up at her younger sister and smiled, "Are you okay?"

Sue nodded, "I'm fine."

"You need to stop lying, Sue."

The younger Sylvester chuckled lightly, "I never could get anything past you, could I Jeanie?"

"No," Jean gave her sister a wide toothed grin.

Leaning forward, Sue took her sister's hands in hers and sighed, "I just came back from talking with," She gulped slightly, she hated saying it, "Our parents."

"And…?" Jean prodded gently, looking down at her sister's hands, running her thumbs over the already wrinkling skin of her younger sister's hands.

"They don't want to cancel their trip. They won't be coming back for your birthday."

Jean shook her head slowly, "Why, Sue?"

_Because their obnoxious human beings that have no place being our parents._

"They're busy, Jeanie."

"They're always busy." Jean pulled her hands away and rested them deftly in her lap, looking over towards the doors, a gentle nudge to Sue that her older sister wanted to be alone. It was difficult most of the time, hell, all the time to have a handicapable sister. Although Jean was older than Sue by five years, she didn't really grasp things like Sue did. It was difficult, and although Jean had mellowed out in her older age, she was still prone to small moments of mood swings.

The young Sylvester knew not to push, and slowly rose to her feet, leaning down to gently kiss her sister on the forehead before leaving. Jean would get better in time, and hopefully, if she prayed hard enough, Jean would slowly begin to understand that Sue never made that call to their parents. She didn't want to deal with another disappointment, well, that's what she put it down to.

She didn't want to admit that they'd left no number, or any idea of where they were going.

"Uhm, Coach Sylvester?"

Sue stopped mid step and swivelled gently, "What did you just say?"

The blonde before her stared up at Sue weirdly, and for some reason the older woman wanted to run away. Who the hell was this psycho?

"You're Coach Sylvester right? Sue Sylvester?"

"Yes. But I don't know why you keep calling me Coach Sylvester."

"You're not a coach?"

Sue's eyebrow rose, "Does it look like I am?" She gestured down to her business suit, "Coach? Please."

"Oh, I just thought…anyway…," The blonde took a deep breath to continue, but the older woman was intrigued. A coach in what…exactly?

"What did you think I coached?"

Quinn replied without even thinking, "Cheerleading," then snapped her hands over her mouth comically. She should_ not_ of said that. Homunculus would so kill her.

"Can you honestly get a real career out of coaching a Cheerleading squad?" Sue laughed mockingly, "Please, not in this day and age."

"Yeah, stupid thought. Who'd want to coach a cheerleading squad? It's pathetic."

"Hm,"

"Anyway…uh…" The blonde's eyes narrowed gently before she glanced down at her pocket, "Uh, sorry to bother you, I have to go!" And she rushed off in the direction of the toilets.

"What a weird girl," Sue turned and walked toward the front doors, collecting her bag and satchel case from the front desk, "Yes…it is pathetic."

Why was the PAD activating now? She hadn't figured anything out!

* * *

><p>She landed with dignity to her feet as she fell toward the floor. She was still in the toilet of the centre by the looks of it, except for the fact that the colour scheme had changed from a rather weird shade of green to a grotesque shade of yellow.<p>

The trip to 1994 didn't make sense, she summarized when she left the toilets and headed straight for the front door. Why had she been taken there? Was she suppose to see Rachel as a baby, or herself? Was she suppose to have that conversation to Coach Sylvester?

The atmosphere outside was bustling, and the heat from the mid afternoon sun shone down from above her. A complete mirror opposite to the last time she'd seen Lima. Glancing down at the PAD that she still foolishly had in her hand, she read the read-out. She was back in her time, just a few minutes later than when she'd been transported before.

Everything was back to normal…for the time being.

She just had to sort something out first.

She knocked on the hardwood door and took two small steps back, clutching her hands behind her back nervously as she waited for it to open. It seemed as if no one was in, but eventually the door swung open and revealed Aaron Berry, "Can I help you?"

"Hey, is Rachel in?" Quinn glanced up the stairs that stood firmly behind the man's shoulder.

"Of course but…" Aaron's eyes narrowed gently, "Have I met you before?"

_Oh, Homunculus is so going to kill me._

"I'm Quinn Fabray, you've probably seen me around town." She filled in without missing a beat.

"Ah," Aaron seemed convinced and backed off, "She's upstairs in her room. Second door on the right."

"Thanks, Mr. Berry."

Using her common courtesy, she pulled off her boots before climbing the stairs toward Rachel's room. When she saw the door she couldn't help but chuckle to herself - leave it to Rachel to decorate the door to her room with a giant gold star.

She knocked gently with one knuckle and felt her heart skip when she heard the familiar voice behind the door, "Daddy, I said I wasn't hungry."

The blonde sighed and leaned closer to the door, lowering her voice so Aaron wouldn't hear from down the stairs, "It's me, Quinn."

There was no reply, and at first she thought she'd given the diva a heart attack, but then the soft, almost melodic voice returned, only lighter and sharp, "Go away."

"I can't." Quinn glanced down toward the end of the hall, half temped to run to the stairs to see if the Berry's were stood listening, "I just…need to speak to you, okay? I need someone to confide in."

Once again there was reply. So with a sigh, Quinn stepped back and allowed her back to fall against the wall behind her. "I won't leave until you let me in." To add extra emphasis she slid to the floor, stretching her legs out across the floor, "Ahhh, comfy floor."

Quinn crossed her arms over her chest and waited. And waited. And two hours later and three different silent attempts by both Aaron and Jerry to get up and try another day, the door in front of her finally opened.

Rachel stood there, propped up against the doorframe, arms crossed defensively over her chest, "I thought you'd left."

The blonde noted that Rachel looked like she'd been crying - her eyes were swollen and red, and so was her nose, that she'd obviously been wiping savagely with the tissue that sat tucked in a hair bobble at her wrist. She'd never looked so heartbreakingly adorable before.

"Nope," Quinn stared up at her, then quietly asked, "Can I come in, yet…? This floor…? Not so comfy."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I think you know,"


	8. Chapter 7

**Shadow of Fate - Chapter 7**

Okay, so she was in Rachel's room. No biggie. Actually, it was a biggie, especially with the way that Rachel was staring at her from the bed. The diva was perched gently on the edge, hands clasped almost painfully in her lap as she regarded the blonde.

It was weird, in a way, to be in Rachel's room (not that she'd been wondering what it looked like) because it was exactly the way she thought it would be. Playbills scattered the walls, jubilant colours splashed the walls…an elliptical?

She wandered over to it and fingered one of the handles, wondering how many times the diva actually used the machine. She'd heard Rachel whining to Finn that if her morning routine was disturbed, it would throw her whole body off. Maybe this was part of that routine?

It wasn't as if the girl needed to exercise - she'd seen enough times in gym class that Rachel was-

Quinn blushed and turned around quickly, glancing down at the brunette who now regarded her with a look of sheer confusion. She was probably wondering what the hell Quinn Fabray was doing in her bedroom, and touching her things. So she stuffed her hands in her jeans pockets to stop the itch she felt in her fingers to touch things that most _certainly_ belonged to Rachel.

"Why are you here?"

The pause between entering the room and sitting down had given the diva more than enough time to collect herself. She looked calmer, more serene, but her eyes were ablaze with an emotion that Quinn couldn't quite pinpoint.

"I just needed to talk to someone," Was the honest answer, she just didn't mention that it was mostly out of guilt because of what happened in the restroom at school. She hadn't seen Nicole since then, and she really didn't want to either - she wasn't a Cheerio anymore, she'd be ripped apart by the senior and her cronies.

"Perhaps you could have spoken to someone else," Rachel replied flippantly, "Santana, Brittany. Perhaps Sam?"

"I needed to talk to someone who…" _Knew how I was feeling…I feel so alone…_ "Understood."

An eyebrow raised slowly, "What am I suppose to be understanding?" Before Quinn could even think about opening her mouth to reply, Rachel continued on, her hands clutching desperately at her skirt, "Perhaps why you allowed one of your Cheerio's to dunk my head into a toilet? Or maybe how you stood idly by when she asked you if she should? Or maybe I should understand why you've made my life hell for as long as I can remember? I can't understand that, Quinn."

"No, Rachel, it's not about that."

The brunette sighed gently, "I'm not interested, Quinn." A hand rose and brushed the bangs from her eyes, "I'm really not, anymore. I should be, but I just can't even bring myself to care."

"Rachel, please-,"

"Just leave, Quinn." Rachel stood, brushed her hands gently over her skirt and opened the door, "Thank you for stopping by, but it wasn't warranted."

Quinn sighed heavily, staring at Rachel as the diva stared out of the bedroom door - seemingly forgetting that Quinn was in her room. The blonde shifted from foot to foot, trying to show her hesitance to leaving; maybe Rachel would let her talk if she just Istayed/I.

"You can go now, Quinn."

She knew she was losing the battle - Rachel's stubbornness tended to outgrow Quinn's, she'd truly met her match in Rachel Berry. So with a quick scuff of her toes against the carpet, she walked past Rachel, trying to look into her eyes (which were staring holes into the hallway wall) as she passed.

Stopping at the top of the stairs, she glanced back over her shoulder. Rachel was still stood there, eyes wounded, which quickly changed into indifference when Quinn caught her eye.

"I uh," Quinn cleared her throat, "I need you."

Rachel's look of indifference faded, only for a second before slamming back into place, "I needed you too." Then walked into her bedroom and shut the door gently behind her.

* * *

><p>Why she was crying, she didn't know. Maybe it was because of the whole day in general - she'd lost her boyfriend, lost a 'friend' and now Quinn was coming back for more. Was the blonde actually trying to destroy Rachel completely? She didn't know, but all she knew was that by the time she was done crying, her pillow would have to be changed.<p>

She hated crying - more than losing awards (which rarely happened, but still…) and she hated the fact she was crying over a girl that never once gave her an ounce of compassion. But she knew something had changed within Quinn over the past few days - she couldn't pinpoint it, but something had made the blonde reassess the way she treated other people.

Her cell began to vibrate against the wood of her bedside drawer, and then the gentle melody of 'Faithfully' began to trickle through. She really needed to change that tone.

"Yes?"

"Rach?"

Finn.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay? You sound like…y'know, you've been crying."

Rachel sighed into the phone and rolled over onto her back, draping an arm over her eyes to shield from the light that was still pouring into her room.

"Quinn just came over…"

"Oh," Finn's voice filtered through, softening slightly as he continued, "And how did that go?" Honestly, she expected Finn to jump through the roof when he found out his girlfriend had feelings for his ex-girlfriend. She was pleasantly surprised, however, when he didn't. And it just concreted the evidence that they were better off just as friends.

"I didn't even give her a chance," Rachel slammed her arm back down onto the bed in a huff, "part of me wanted to give her a chance, another part of me was still absolutely livid that she hadn't even bothered to stick up for me in front of the cheerio's."

"Wait…livid?"

The diva rolled her eyes gently, "Angry, Finn. Did you not use that dictionary I gave you for your seventeenth birthday?"

"Rach, you knew I got the new Call of Duty from my mom and Burt, that took up all my time…" He coughed gently, "And uh…I don't know where the dictionary went."

"Finn!" She shot up from the bed, "How could you lose something as big as a dictionary?"

"I dunno…"

With a sigh, Rachel continued, "Anyway…yes, Quinn just left."

"So what did she say? Did she apologize-,"

"She said she needed me."

"-for not sticking up…wait, what?"

"She said she needed me," Rachel repeated, tapping the tips of her fingers against the bedspread.

"That's…a pretty big deal, Rachel." When he heard her about to butt in, he halted her, "Wait…just lemme explain okay?" He waited for her to pause, "Look, I was a pretty naff boyfriend for the first couple of months when I was with Quinn, and it was mostly because I didn't understand her. I can't…really explain it, but I didn't understand her because she didn't let me get to know her."

"You were her boyfriend for almost a year,"

"Yeah…I know, but you can date someone and still not know anything about 'em. What I'm trying to say, Rach…is that Quinn never lets anyone in, and when she tells you she needs you…she really does."

"Quinn Fabray needs me…" Rachel let the words sink in - it was unbelievable, the one girl that despised her, needed her? She couldn't deny that something had changed between the two of them, the atmosphere around the two was more like an ice storm…now, whenever the blonde just happened to glance at her, she felt as if she was in the middle of a burning building…and Quinn coming to rescue her…in a fireman's uniform…with that damn sexy stare she gives-,

"Rach? Rachel? Uhm…Rachel, did you fall asleep? I mean, that's cool…but it's a bit weird if I'm talking to myself."

"Wha-?" The diva cleared her throat and snapped her legs together - the feeling between her thighs was definitely not warranted when speaking to her ex on the phone.

"Are you like…sleep-talking?"

"What? No, Finn. I do not 'sleep talk'."

"Ah." He chuckled gently, "So…whatcha gonna do about Quinn?"

Rachel sighed, "_Oh Moses_, I just don't know."

"Uhm…it's Finn, remember…?"

* * *

><p>The first thing she wanted to do was just curl up in a tiny little ball and let the world continue around her. The one girl that would actually manage to keep her sane (surprisingly) didn't want anything to do with her. Homunculus was no where to be found, and honestly, her thoughts were her own worst enemy rather than the mystery person who was trying to end her life.<p>

She kept thinking about Santana, stuck back in time, and without the PAD making a peep, there was no way to try save her. Was she alright? Had she been alienated because of her race? Had she made friends? Enemies?

Then her mind raced to Coach Sylvester. Why the hell had Homunculus made her go to that community centre? Was she suppose to make the domineering woman a Coach in the first place? She just didn't know…

From that thought, her mind stood still on her murdered. Who was it? Why did they want to kill her? Why was Dr. Russell involved and Iwhy/I was she the one that was destined to go through this? She had so many questions, and every time she spoke to Homunculus he just seemed to give her more instead of the answers she so desperately sought.

Finally, her mind decided to stick on the enigma that was Rachel Berry. The girl who Quinn had finally destroyed, finally pushed away, finally burnt all bridges with. It couldn't have come at a worse time, and it didn't help that whenever she tried to call the brunette's phone, her nerves got the better of her and she ended up putting her phone back where it was.

The blonde had spent the whole weekend in bed, only getting up to eat when her mother called her up for dinner (and even then, she hardly ate) except for that, she didn't move. She felt safe in her house, although she knew she was putting off the inevitable - she'd have to back to school eventually, and face what she changed. Rachel's attitude. Coach Sylvester. Another week without Santana Lopez stalking the halls. Her murderer.

"Fuck sake," She groaned when the incessant whine of her alarm rang through her basement bedroom. She grabbed her phone and threw it across the room and waited until the whine died down. With a sigh, she rolled over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.

Monday morning. God, she hated Monday's.

"I thought you'd be staying in bed," Judy Fabray muttered from the other side of the breakfast isle, her cup of coffee braced at her lips as she regarded her daughter. She knew there was something going on in Quinn's life, for the life of her, she didn't know what it was, but if it meant she quit the Cheerio's it must have been something serious. She didn't want to put the blonde into telling her what exactly was going on, from fear of pushing her away. She'd only just started building those fragile bridges back with her daughter - she wouldn't destroy them again.

"It's Monday, I have to go to school…" Judy watched as Quinn made herself some toast, slathering it in butter - something she never did when on the Cheerio's. At least her daughter was eating now, instead of drinking water and eating rabbit food all week.

"I just assumed with you not coming up from your room all weekend you were ill. You usually go out with Santana and Brittany on the weekends."

Judy watched as Quinn's hand stopped spreading the butter, and then slowly put the knife down on the counter top. "Eh, they were busy."

"Busy enough not to include you?"

Quinn picked up a slice of toast, bit into it and turned around the face her mom. She waited until she'd swallowed to continue, "They do things that I'm not involved in."

"Oh, like what?" Judy seemed genuinely intrigued, and for some reason, Quinn couldn't help but say,

"Have sex."

The older blonde's face dropped, then cleared her throat, "With their boyfriends?"

"No Mother…with each other."

"But…they're…" Judy cleared her throat once more, "I never thought…"

Quinn's eyebrow slowly rose - it was crunch time. How would her mother react? She took bite of her toast when the silence got too deafening, and by the time she'd finished and started on her second one, Judy appeared to have collected herself.

"They're gay."

"For each other as much as I know," Quinn mumbled around the buttery toast in her mouth, "They love each other."

"Well," Judy stood up from her stool and discarded her mug in the sink, "If love is involved…then I suppose there's nothing wrong with it."

The younger Fabray almost chocked on her toast, "Wait…what?"

Judy chuckled, "Quinnie…I may be getting old, and I may have been married to your _father_," She sneered before placing her hands gently on her daughter's shoulders, "But I honestly see nothing wrong with homosexuality. Your father was stuck in the past, I never believed in that when I was growing up. I had many gay friends."

"So…you don't mind gay people?"

"Not at all," Judy smiled gently, "And neither should you." She looked pointedly at her daughter, "Don't become your father."

Quinn couldn't help but laugh, "Oh mom, trust me, I wouldn't dare turn into him." Then she sighed gently, "Mom?"

"Yes honey?" She felt like crying when Judy brushed a hand through her golden locks, playing with the curls that fell gently at her shoulders. She'd never felt so close to her mother, and she didn't want to ruin it…

"I love you,"

Judy beamed, "I love you too honey," Judy kissed her younger daughter's cheek and smiled, "Now off to school with you."

* * *

><p>"Quinn, why are you wearing that?" She glanced down at her clothes and took in the jeans and shirt combo - sure it looked a little overused, but she wanted to be comfortable at school.<p>

"I'm comfy," She shrugged as she regarded Brittany, who had bounced over to her as soon as she walked in the front doors. "You do remember that I left the Cheerio's, don't you?"

"Oh yeah…" Brittany continued to follow and Quinn glanced over her shoulder at the blonde.

"Uh…was there something you needed?"

"Have you seen San?"

Quinn managed to stop herself from walking into an incoming student (barely) "Uh…no, can't say I have."

Brittany just nodded, "Okay…" She sounded distraught, and Quinn wanted to kick herself for making it seem as if she didn't care, but the last person she could tell was Brittany S. Pierce. The girl still believed in Santa, for God sake.

"You should head off to practice, Britt. Coach Sylvester will kill you if you're late."

"Who?"

Quinn stopped, turned and regarded her friend, "Coach Sylvester. The Cheerleading coach? Psychotic woman?" Brittany just shook her head, "Wanted to shoot you out of a cannon?"

"Quinn, what are you talking about?" The blonde's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Coach Jameson coaches the Cheerio's. I thought you knew that? Did you hit your head or something?" The taller blonde went to tap Quinn on the head, but she deflected quickly.

"Wait, Coach Sylvester isn't the Cheerio's coach?"

Brittany shrugged, "I've never heard of her, Quinn."

"Oh…fuck…"

Coach Jameson was hot. Really fucking hot. The long haired brunette commanded the Cheerio's with elegance and an authority that wasn't too misplaced. Her shining grey eyes watched carefully as her cheerleader's warmed up (and there wasn't even a megaphone or hideous tracksuit in sight)

"Can I help you?" Damn even her voice was hot, a husky low tone that sent a shiver up Quinn's spine.

"Uh…you're the coach, right?"

"Of course I am, Quinn. I coached you for almost three years."

"Uh…yeah…" Quinn felt her eyes drift down to her ex coach's chest.

Jameson chuckled, "Quinn. My eyes are up here." The blonde's eyes instantly snapped to grey ones, sparkling with a barely hidden mirth. Was that right? Should a coach _flirt_ with a student?

"Do you know someone called Sue Sylvester?"

Jameson thought for a moment for shaking her head, "No, not that I know of. Why do you ask?"

"Just wondered,"

"Another coach you have your eyes on, hm?" Jameson smirked, teasing the younger blonde.

"_Another?_" Quinn squeaked.

"You've already forgotten?" Jameson glanced over her shoulder and relayed a quick plan of action to the new head Cheerio, then turned back to Quinn when she knew their attention was well and truly off the two.

"Forgotten?" Okay, she'd entered the Twilight Zone. What had she done with her damn coach?

"I told you to forget what happened…because we both know, it shouldn't have happened…but I didn't expect you to erase it from your mind completely."

"Uh…"

"You always were so adorable."

"Oh God…" Quinn leaned forward and whispered harshly, "Did we fuck?"

Jameson's eyes grew wide, "Quinn! Will you shut up?" The brunette grabbed Quinn by her wrist and pulled her from the gym and into her office. Okay, this had changed as well. Not so many trophies, actually…probably half of what Sylvester got under the Cheerio's rule, but at least it didn't make her want to sweat fear when she walked into the room.

"How could you do that? Knowing we were in public?"

"…Oh my god, I screwed my Cheerleading Coach."

Jameson rolled her eyes and made sure the door was shut firmly, "I believe you got over that the third time."

"Third?"

The brunette coach took a seat behind her desk, and leaned back, "Have you hit your head and suffered from memory loss or something?"

"Let's just say…I'm seeing things in a new light…" Quinn slowly took the seat opposite Jameson.

"What we did was highly inappropriate, we both realized that and put a stop to it. Does that bring back memories?"

"How long did it go on for?"

"Three months, until my husband found out."

Quinn slammed her forehead down on the glass desk and groaned, "Oh my God, what was I thinking?"

"I thought the same thing. Hence, why we ended it."

"How…" Quinn gulped gently, "Did it happen…?"

"You mean how did we start our," She lowered her voice, "Affair?"

The blonde cringed and nodded. It couldn't be true, she'd changed Sylvester's mind and stopped her from becoming a coach, making this Jameson woman the new Coach, and then she'd had an _affair_ with her? No. This was just a timeline that shouldn't exist. Jameson shouldn't be at this school, this shouldn't have happened.

"We found each other very attractive, and you stayed late one night to help me clear away the apparatus. We got talking and the rest is history."

Quinn sighed, "You shouldn't be here. It should be Coach Sylvester." She said, almost to herself.

"Excuse me?"

Hazel eyes focused on grey ones, "You're not suppose to be here."

"I got this job fair and square, Quinn. I can't help it if Carmel High found another Coach with more experience."

"Carmel High," Quinn's eyes grew wide, "You're Laura Jameson the Carmel Cheerleader's coach!"

"No…I'm Laura Jameson, the McKinley High Cheerio Coach," Laura's eyes narrowed, "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"No…I've fucked up." Quinn stood from her seat quickly, "And I need to sort it out. I'm sorry, Coach Jameson." She turned to leave, but slowly turned back around and shook the woman's hand, "I'm sure we had fun."

Laura watched as her ex Captain left her office, and dropped her hand gently into her lap, "Huh."

* * *

><p>"Homunculus show your ass, right now!"<p>

**"You bellowed,"**

Quinn gasped and fell back on her backside. Homunculus had somehow teleported right in front of her, and as she rubbed her aching rump, he chuckled.

"I need you to make the PAD work, I need to go back to 1994."

Homunculus smiled, **"You realize that changing the past doesn't usually make things better?"**

Quinn nodded, "I didn't even realize I'd changed the past. That conversation with Coach Sylvester…I must have changed her mind."

**"She was in two minds about becoming a coach."** Homunculus told the blonde, **"You mustn't interfere. Allow her to do what she must, and don't do anything that could change her future. Or yours."**

"I know that now, smartass."

The pale man chuckled humourlessly, **"Pass me the PAD,"** He held out his hand, and Quinn fought back a shudder when he realized how bony his fingers looked, like they didn't even belong on his hands.

He fiddled with it, turning it over in his hands - it glowed a bright blue, and suddenly, the eerie glow dissipated and he handed it back, **"Done. You can now travel at will, but be careful, don't use it too much. The same warning's still apply, when the PAD says it's time to leave that time, you must."**

"Okay…so now I can go to any time I like?"

Homunculus simply nodded.

"Even to 1556 to save Santana?"

**"If that is what you want, yes."**

"Then excuse me."

She grabbed the PAD and shut her eyes tight, thinking of the time she wanted to travel too. She thought she was doing it wrong, and opened her eyes to ask Homunculus, but instead her body was enveloped in the usual blue blow, the heavy cracking of electricity around her as she was sucked into time.

* * *

><p>1994, to the day, two hours after she'd arrived the first time. She was in the park where she'd spoken to Homunculus, and she realized she only had twenty minutes to make it to the other side of town where the community centre was.<p>

"Fuck!" She broke into a run, trying to forget about the cold that enveloped her whole body. She was only in a shirt and jeans, and not even wearing her military boots, her thin vans soaked up the moisture from the snow at her feet - she'd only made it to the bottom of the street before the cold stopped her in her tracks. "I can't give up…"

With a determination she didn't know she possessed, she forged ahead and made it to the community centre with only the feelings in her hands, feet and nose missing. The same man was there, the old gentleman that took her in and gave her a cup of coffee. She felt a distinct feeling of deja-vu when she sat down and sipped at the steaming brew.

She'd only been sat down five minutes when he came up to her again and asked if she was feeling better - she only nodded, glancing around him to try and find Coach Sylvester.

And there she was, power walking into the back room. "I have to go, thank you for the coffee." She handed him the mug and dashed in the direction of her Coach.

So that was Jean Sylvester. Quinn had heard about Sue's older sister, hell, half of the school knew about her. Sue always talked about having a handicapable sister, and she made sure there was zero tolerance of bullying when it came to people who were handicapped. Although Quinn was never the sort of person to bully anyone with a handicap, there were plenty of people in the world, and some assholes at McKinley who treated them with no respect. It made her sick.

Sue seemed upset when she stood up to leave, and that's when the blonde panicked. What the hell could she say that would glorify cheerleading?

_I love cheerleading so much, it's so amazing, my God, I think you should become a coach. Don't ya think?_

Yeah…Coach Sylvester would probably think she was a lunatic and have her admitted. Actually, she wouldn't mind the stale four walls of a lunatic asylum at the moment, maybe it would make her less edgy…

And damn, there she was, right in front of her.

She cried.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh…" Quinn wiped at her cheeks, "Yeah…I just…" She glanced up at Sue, who's brow was furrowed, forehead creased, "It doesn't matter, you don't want me wasting your time. I'm sorry to bother you, miss."

Sue sighed, "Go ahead."

Wow, really?

"Well, I was…thrown off the team."

"Team?"

"The Cheerleading team. I was the Captain, and they just threw me out because they didn't think I had the same vision as them. The Coach didn't even stick up for me!"

"Well, that's unfortunate…"

"I mean, why couldn't they have someone who actually had the guts to stick up for their students, or what they believed in as the coach?" Quinn chocked on a sob, "Someone like you or something, I bet you'd make an awesome coach…unlike her…"

"Ah…well…"

"Sorry, I've taken up too much of your time. I'm sorry," Quinn sidestepped the younger Sue and watched as she walked away, her eyes a little bit brighter than when she'd left her sister's room.

Quinn smirked. Oh, she was just _too_ good.

She'd never been so happy to see 2011, and she'd never been so happy to hear the ever bored tone of Sue Sylvester screaming through a megaphone at the panting Cheerio's who had collapsed to the gym floor.

"Good to have you back, Coach."

* * *

><p>She heeded the warning that Homunculus had given her, and only used the PAD once a day. Of course, Santana couldn't wait, but she didn't really want to overuse the PAD just in case she broke the damn thing. So she'd made a plan, she'd go to school, try to look normal, not get herself killed and then after Glee, she'd go back in time to save Santana.<p>

Well, she'd done well until she lost the device that would save her friend. She'd noticed during AP History, her favourite subject. She'd dug into her bag to grab the red pen she needed, and involuntarily reached for the PAD to make sure it was still there. This time, it wasn't.

She snatched the bag up, and placed it on her lap. Jacob Ben Israel who sat on the chair to her right looked at her as she pulled everything out of her bag and literally slammed her head into it.

Quinn's head slowly pulled from the bag, her face a pale white, "Oh God…" She glanced over at Jacob, who she realized was still looking at her and frowned, "What are you looking at _Jew-Fro_?"

She said it louder than she'd wanted to, and she didn't really mean to catch the attention of Rachel who was sat at the front of the room. The diva swivelled in her chair, her pen still tapping on the wood of her desk.

Quinn felt herself shiver when Rachel stared at her, obviously annoyed at the Jewish retort, and then sighed with relief when the brunette turned back around. What a way to get with the girl you like - alienate her origins indirectly. Maybe she should be a book on Judaism or something?

To say she couldn't concentrate all the way through her class was an understatement. She kept glancing around her seat, trying to catch sight of the allusive PAD. It must have fallen out of her bag at some point - maybe it was still in her car? Maybe she'd left it at home? No…she remembered seeing it in her back when she'd walking into school.

She groaned, what a place to lose a time travelling device - seriously.

Then she'd seen it. She didn't mean to, but she'd glanced at Rachel as she stood up from her seat and pack her things away - she'd seen the PAD in the brunette's bag and she'd immediately seen red. What the hell was she doing with it?

Following the diva, she cornered her in the choir room. Rachel seemed to be in the habit of arriving twenty minutes before Glee Club was scheduled to start, and Quinn couldn't be thankful enough for that.

"Rachel,"

The girl in question sighed, reached into her back that lay on top of the piano, and pulled out the PAD before handing it to the blonde. "This is what you want, right?"

"Uh, yeah." Quinn took the PAD and clutched it in her hands, "Thanks."

"Why did you put it in my locker?"

The blonde's eyebrows shot up comically, "What?" Quinn scoffed, "I didn't put it in your locker, Rachel."

"It was in my locker." Rachel stood up from the bench and crossed her arms over her chest, the already tight material of her blue polka dot dress tightening over her breasts, "You must have put it in there."

Quinn blushed when she realized she'd been staring at the diva's chest, "Uh…" She tried to remember what they were talking about, "I swear I didn't put it in your locker, Rachel. Why would I do that?"

The brunette shrugged half-heartedly, "I way to get me to speak to you again."

Quinn's mouth opened, then shut, then she growled._ Homunculus, don't screw with me._

"For a missing phone charger, you were very distraught."

The blonde ran a hand through her hair and sighed, "Yeah…well…it's expensive."

Rachel nodded and looked down at her shoes, arms still crossed at her chest, "I researched it, you know." Quinn stared at her, eyes open wide, "There's no such thing as a charger like that." Rachel slowly looked up to Quinn, "What is it, really?"

"Now you want to hear what I have to say?" She didn't know were it came from, or why it came out so cruel. But when Rachel flinched back slightly, she just wanted to hold the girl and apologize.

"Fine, we'll just leave it at that, Quinn. Now if you'll excuse me." She moved for the piano and stopped in her tracks when she reached the bench when she felt arms wrap tightly around her waist, "Q-Quinn…?"

She heard a soft chuckle behind her, and a gentle kiss to her neck, "I'll always love you, Rach."

Then the arms were gone, and she pitched forward onto the bench. "What?" Her whole body shook - she looked up at Quinn with disbelieving eyes, the blonde looked as if she hadn't even moved. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Quinn asked, confusion lacing her tone.

"You-you-you… held me… a-and you kissed me…" Rachel gulped, "You told me you loved me." She ended in a weak whisper.

When she saw Quinn's body stiffen, Rachel waited for the blonde to reply. What had just happened? Had she imagined it? Had the countless nights of crying herself to sleep over the infuriating blonde finally taken it's toll. She was imagining it - she must be. Quinn hadn't moved, but…the way Quinn stiffened…

"I uh…" The blonde slowly backed away, "I have to go." She turned and headed for the choir room door.

"No you don't, Quinn Fabray!" Quinn stopped in her tracks, "You will not walk away from me again until I know just what exactly is going on here!" She stomped her foot for extra emphasis, then immediately regretted it - she wasn't five.

Quinn's body shook as she exhaled, and Rachel watched with blazing eyes as Quinn finally turned back around and regarded her with defeated hazel eyes.

"You want to know what's going on?"

"I believe I made that evident from my previous statement."

Quinn nodded slowly, "Fine, but not here. My mom's at work, we'll go to my house," She made for the door, and when she realized Rachel wasn't following her, she glanced over her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"I refuse to play hooky, Quinn! Glee Club is very important, Nationals is coming up and we still haven't come up with any good songs. We-,"

The blonde groaned, "Rachel…please…"

"…Fine."

* * *

><p>Okay, so she was in Quinn's room. No biggie. Actually, it was a biggie, especially with the way Quinn kept pacing up and down her bedroom, glancing at her from time to time. Rachel took a seat on Quinn's bed, then immediately got up and took the seat at the blonde's desk. No sitting on the bed. No. Not in Quinn Fabray's room.<p>

It wasn't as she expected at all. She expected a huge motto on the wall saying 'It's all about the teasing, and not about the pleasing' or maybe a giant shrine to Jesus Christ in the corner of the room - but no, it looked like any normal room. Although Quinn was girly in every way, the room seemed to have a little bit of a male touch to it. Of course, there was a vanity table, the make up, the countless dresses and cardigans in the closet, but there was also an acoustic guitar in one corner of the room, both a PS3 and an Xbox 360 and by Moses if she wasn't seeing things - a poster from a gaming expo that was held the year before in Columbus (she only knew about it from Finn, who had been boarding on depressed for a whole week when he realized he didn't have the money to go)

"Okay, I'm gonna tell you," She jumped in her seat when Quinn finally spoke up. The blonde was now sat at the foot of her bed, hands clasped tightly on her lap, "Promise you won't freak out and run away?"

"I highly doubt I'll freak out, Quinn." She scoffed and rolled her eyes, "Who do you take me for? I'm Rachel Berry, I take everything in my stride."

"Yeah, not this…" The blonde muttered, raising both hands to push the hair that had fallen over her eyes, "Okay…so this is what's happened…"

And she listened, drinking in every word that came out of the blonde's mouth. From the murder attempts, to Homunculus, to Santana going missing, to the PAD, to Coach Sylvester - she listened to it all, hanging on every word until Quinn finally finished.

"So yeah…that's what's been going on…"

"I see," Rachel stood up from her chair and headed to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving, Quinn."

"What? Why?" The blonde shot up from the bed and barricaded herself between the door and Rachel, "You promised you wouldn't freak out."

"I'm not freaking out, I just can't believe you would tell me such a ridiculous story and expect me to believe it."

Quinn bit her bottom lip, "Give me a time in the past you want to go back to."

"Oh please," She rolled her eyes and watched as Quinn pulled out the PAD from her back pocket.

"Any time," She held the PAD in one hand, and with the other, grabbed Rachel's hand gently and placed it on the PAD, "Go on."

"Okay…March 26, 1964."

"And where do you want to go in that time?"

Rachel indulged her, "The first showing of Funny Girl on Broadway."

"Done." Quinn shut her eyes, and Rachel watched as the blonde's brow furrowed in concentration. She had the overbearing urge to kiss away the crease, and she almost did, when she was suddenly enveloped in a warm glow. She yelped, and made to run away, when she felt the familiar arms wrap around her waist and pull her against the blonde, "I'll take care of you."

"I…" Rachel stared up at the marquee with tears in her eyes, "It can't…" She glanced over her shoulder at Quinn, who stood with her hands in her jean pockets, a shy smile on her face, "This…is so unreal, it can't…" She turned back to look at the familiar words 'Funny Girl' and then 'Opening Night' right next to it.

"Do you believe me now, Rachel?" The voice was closer this time, and her mind raced back to only a few hours ago. The arms that wrapped around her, the lips that caressed her neck - almost like a lovers touch, then words said so desperately that they ran true.

_"I'll always love you, Rach."_

"Yes," She turned and watched as relief flooded over Quinn's face, "I believe you."


	9. Chapter 8

**Shadow of Fate - Chapter 8**

"So…what do you want to do now?"

Rachel just didn't know - she was still staring at Quinn, who was now looking at her with the same confidence she showed everyday at school as a Cheerio. The blonde's body seemed more relaxed, and the slight smile that graced her lips wasn't cocky - it was challenging.

"Well…I'd love to see the show but," Rachel glanced back up at the marquee, taking in the bold red letters that said 'Sold Out' and sighed, "It's sold out."

Quinn chuckled. Rachel looked back at her and rose an eyebrow in silent question.

"You really haven't got it yet, have you?" Quinn simply pulled the PAD out of her pocket, held it out for Rachel to place her hand on, then shut her eyes. It was only a matter of time until they were both embraced in the familiar blue glow - and this time Rachel didn't freak out, or try to run away; she watched the show of lights and sound around her, and allowed herself to be embraced.

"Why do I feel a little sick?" Rachel asked, hunching over, hands on her thighs as she sucked in heavy breaths.

"Huh? I guess it's the travelling…" Quinn glanced down at the PAD, "I never felt sick, maybe it just happens to some people."

The brunette just nodded dumbly, and then when the urge to hurl dissipated, stood tall and sighed, "Now where are we?"

They were still outside the theatre - only this time it was day. People milled around them, almost like they didn't even see them. Why didn't these people see them appear and disappear? She knew New York was the city that never slept, and that people tended to keep to themselves, but it should arouse suspicion to see two people appear in a blaze of blue glory.

"A month before opening night," Quinn smirked and walked to the theatre doors, holding them open, "After you," She swept her arm gracefully toward Rachel and then to the waiting open door.

The brunette tried not to blush at the chivalry. She really _did_ like _this_ Quinn.

There was a bored looking teen behind the ticket desk, he was trying to look like he was doing work, but even Quinn and Rachel could see the comic book he had propped up on his lap. He was too wrapped up in the fictional action that he didn't even notice Quinn, who stood at the desk, forearms leaning on the countertop.

"Nice book?"

The teen jumped in his seat, fumbled with the comic, dropping it in the process, then kicked it clean away from him. "Please don't tell my boss, I'm on my final warning as it is."

The blonde chuckled and glanced over her shoulder at Rachel who was staring at an advertisement for Funny Girl. Her eyes were wide as saucers, her hands cupped over her mouth in disbelief.

Quinn needed to get those tickets.

"Do you have tickets for Funny Girl available?"

"Uh, lemme check," He glanced at his computer, clicked in a few things on his keyboard and nodded, "Yeah, they ain't been selling well."

"But," The blonde immediately shut her mouth - he certainly didn't need to know that it would sell out and be one of the most popular shows on Broadway, "Uh, what's the best seats you have available?"

He glanced down again, hazel eyes scanning the screen, "Fourth row, bottom tier, centre seats?"

"Awesome, I'll take 'em."

"Uh, they cost a bomb."

Quinn stopped reaching for her purse, "Define 'bomb'."

"Hundred an' fifteen for one ticket." When Quinn's jaw almost hit the countertop he pressed on, "It's opening night, what'dya expect?"

The blonde groaned, ran a hand through her hair and then glanced back over her shoulder. Rachel was smiling at her, and something inside her melted. "God, fine…" She muttered mostly to herself, reached for her purse and slapped down her credit card.

It didn't really click that she'd slammed down a piece a plastic that wasn't suppose to exist for another forty odd years, until he'd swiped the card and told her that there was no such account.

"Oh," She took back her card, "Look…this will sound so weird when I say this…but I need those tickets, and I don't really have the money."

"No money, no tickets, no sale." He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb - and there fate would have it, a large sign saying the exact same thing.

"No, what I mean is…I have the money, but…I can't get it unless I go home."

"Then go home, I'll hold 'em for ya."

"Oh yeah, hold them for almost fifty years…"

"Huh?"

"Hold them for me, I'll be right back." She waited for him to nod, then walked back over to Rachel, "I need to head back to our time."

"Is there a problem?"

Quinn scratched the back of her head, embarrassed, "Cash flow problem."

The diva's mouth shaped a small 'O' then Quinn watched as she reached into her pocket, "What're you doing?"

"Giving you some money."

"You have two hundred and thirty dollars on you?"

Rachel snapped her purse shut - which was a hideous gold star…thing, and scoffed, "Two hundred and thirty dollars, that's scandalous, Quinn!" The brunette glanced over the other girl's shoulder and glowered, "I'm going to give that young man a piece of my mind!"

When she made to move, Quinn grabbed her shoulders with both hands and sighed, "Don't say anything that could change anything…or make him think you're not from this time. If you do, it could change the future, and I'm trying to avoid that at all costs. Okay?"

Rachel nodded, "Okay."

"Great."

"Quinn?"

"Yes?"

"You'll need to let go of my shoulders for me to move…"

"Oh," Quinn pulled her hands away and shoved them in her pockets, "Go ahead." Rachel didn't mention the blush that dusted the blonde's pale cheeks, instead she smiled and wandered over to the ticket boy and put on her best 'You've-think-that-I'll-pay-that-much-money-for-a-ticket-you-must-think-I-was-born-yesterday' face.

Oh yes, she had a face for everything. One must always be prepared.

"Excuse me," She glanced at his ID tag, "Ian, but we have a problem here."

The young man behind the desk, Ian, glanced up at her, then jumped back in his chair a little when he realized she was _right_ up in his face. "Problem?"

"Oh yes. I've been a fan of Broadway for as long as I can remember, and never in my life have I heard of such scandalizing pricing when it comes to theatre tickets. One hundred and fifteen dollars for _one_ ticket is scandalous."

"I'm…only doin' what I'm told…"

"Would you pay one hundred and fifteen dollars to go to one of your comic conventions?"

"I…don't go to those things…"

"I'm being hypothetical, Ian."

"Oh…uh, well…the price does seem a bit steep."

"Exactly," Rachel smiled triumphantly, glanced over her shoulder at Quinn who had taken to leaning up against the wall by the door, arms crossed over her chest. She really was…something…

"-could do…"

"I'm sorry, what?" Rachel's head snapped back to the young man, "I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

"I said I could see what I could do."

"Excellent," Rachel stood primly at the desk, staring down at him. He'd expected her to walk off, but when it seemed as if she wasn't going to move, he sighed and picked up the phone.

"Hi, this is Ian Thorpe at the ticket desk, uh…I have a woman here askin' if she could have a price deduction from her tickets?" Ian nodded slowly, his eyes wide, mouth agape - he reminded her of Finn. "Oh yeah, she says that it costs too much an' that she's been a fan of Broadway for as long as she can remember." Another nod, "Yeah…alright…sure…" He held out the phone, "He wants to speak to ya."

Rachel's eyebrow rose, excellent, she could perfect her acting skills.

"Hello this is Rachel, whom am I speaking to?"

"Kevin Wake - Ticket Advisor."

"Well Mr. Wake, I would like to tell you that your pricing is highly exaggerated, the most I've ever spent on a ticket to a Broadway show was forty dollars, and even then, I was giving the best seats in the house."

"I'm sorry, miss, but the pricing is equivalent to the demand we have for the show. If you want good seats, you'll have to pay for them accordingly."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Rachel faux sighed, "I guess I'll have to put in a complaint. All the other theatre's prices are much lower than the ones you're offering. It's highly unfair."

"Now wait just a minute-,"

Rachel waited…and waited…then smiled.

"I'm sure…we could come to some sort of arrangement."

* * *

><p>"And that is why no one messes with one, Rachel Berry." Rachel handed over the two tickets to Quinn and grinned - that award winning smile that made something inside the young blonde melt into a puddle of giddiness.<p>

"What did you do?" Quinn chuckled, pocketing the tickets.

"I simply spoke to the ticket advisor and told him that his pricing theories on Broadway tickets were incredibly wrong. I then…may…have threatened to complain…"

Quinn's chuckle died away.

"He offered the tickets for free as an apology!"

The blonde rolled her eyes, "I should have known you'd destroy this theatre as soon as you got here." Quinn smirked when she heard an offending squeak from behind her, and walked out of the theatre before she heard an even more offended,

"How dare you, Quinn Fabray!"

They'd decided to stop at a diner downtown - they were both surprisingly hungry (time travel can do that to a person) and the thought of sitting through a whole Broadway show without any food in her stomach set Quinn on edge.

The BLT that she ordered could be smelt from the small kitchen to the back of the diner, and her eyes remained steadfastly on the door, instead of the girl who sat on the opposite end of the booth.

"I refuse to believe they had no vegan options."

Quinn chuckled, eyes still on the door, "It's a small diner in downtown New York…what do you expect?"

Rachel scoffed, "I'll write a formal complaint."

"No you won't," Quinn felt the eyes blazing a hole in her skin, and she chuckled, "You can't, you could change something…" she dragged her eyes away from the door and smirked at the young diva, "And you've already done enough."

"Hmph." Rachel sat back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Don't do that, you look pre-pubescent when you look like that."

"Maybe I want to look pre-pubescent," Rachel whined back mockingly.

"You look like Finn."

Rachel immediately sat up and steeled her face, Quinn couldn't stop the laugh that burst from her mouth. She clasped her hands over her mouth at Rachel's offended gasp, then God strike her down, she _snorted_.

"Did…" Rachel bit her bottom lip, "Did you just…snort?"

"No," Quinn's hands slapped down hard on the table between the two of them, "No I didn't."

"Quinn Fabray snorts…"

"I don't," She knew she was glaring, an it usually deterred the brunette, but for some reason it just wasn't working, "I so don't."

Rachel giggled and looked down at her hand, the fingertip of her index finger grazing the plastic of the diner table, "I think it's cute."

"Oh," Quinn cleared her throat, "Well," She saw the robust waitress waddling toward them with their food and she sighed with relief - she could have kissed her, "Oh look, our lunch is here!"

Rachel glanced over her shoulder, looked back, stared at Quinn and then nodded, knowing the subject was closed. They'd been flirting, Rachel had done plenty of it with Finn, Puck and Jesse…hell, even Blaine Anderson, and she knew full well that Quinn had been flirting back. It just got to the point where Rachel began be obvious about it, then the blonde would just step back.

Quinn was scared - and Rachel knew why. She just wouldn't let Quinn know that she knew. Yet.

"So…have you been," She didn't know how to word it, funnily enough, "Y'know."

Quinn glanced down at her sandwich (which was bloody huge) and sighed - her mouth was salivating, she could smell the bacon, and all she wanted to do was eat.

"Murdered?" The blonde whispered quietly, when Rachel nodded in the affirmative, she shook her head, "Not recently, thank God. It was starting to get on my nerves."

"It…" Rachel twirled her spoon in her tomato soup, staring into the bowl, "Did you feel pain every time?"

"Yep," Quinn started pull off some of the crusty parts of the bread, popping them into her mouth, "It hurt."

Rachel nodded, blinking back tears, "And you went through this alone?"

Quinn paused, hand inches away from her mouth. Rachel watched her with intrigued eyes as the blonde popped some bread into her mouth, chewed thoughtfully, swallowed and then took a sip from the coke that beside her.

"No."

"Oh?" A sudden flare of jealousy ran through the diva's body, and she fought to push it back.

"I told Santana - I had to, I was with her when I got poisoned that one time in Breadstix."

"Santana?" Rachel allowed herself to relax, "But, where is she?" She blew on a spoonful of soup and sipped at it gently.

Quinn sighed, "In 1556."

Rachel barely held back from spitting the red hot soup onto the blonde opposite her - she swallowed, coughed, then took a large gulp of water, the ice soothing her burning throat. "1556?"

Quinn nodded, picked up her sandwich and took a bite. Rachel waited patiently for Quinn to finished her mouthful, "She got sucked into the tunnel when I transported back there. We were separated, and I had to come back without her."

"You couldn't have waited to return?"

The blonde shook her head, "No, when the PAD tells me to come back, I have to."

Rachel nodded, and the two fell into silence as they continued to eat. The brunette thought about what Quinn had just said - they hadn't been separated when coming to this time, did that mean Quinn had mastered how to travel with a companion? Or was it because she was touching the PAD?

The blonde wondered if Santana was okay, it's been almost a week since she'd last seen the Latina. She could only pray that she hadn't been hung or something - and knowing Santana and her temper, the likelihood of that happening was high.

They both finished, and Quinn paid with cash and left a tip - mostly for the waitress' impeccable sense of timing, and then left.

"So, we have to travel again, right?"

"Yup," Quinn pulled out the PAD, "Try not to throw up, hm?"

Rachel stared at her, then fake laughed, "Ha-ha." She placed her hand gently on the PAD, allowing her fingertips to glide over the smooth surface, "If I do, you'll be the first to know."

Quinn's mouth turned upward into a smirk, her eyes shut from concentrating, "Don't you dare, Berry."

"Oh I dare, Fabray."

* * *

><p>"I refuse to go to the theatre dressed like this, Quinn!"<p>

"You look fine."

"Fine? I can't just look Ifine/I when going to a Broadway play - and not just any show, Quinn; Funny Girl. I'll actually be seeing Barbra Streisand, my idol…on stage. I refuse to look like I've just come from school."

"But you've just come from school."

"Quinn."

"Lord have mercy on my soul," Quinn ripped out the PAD from her back pocket, grabbed Rachel's hand and slammed it down on the device, "You'll be the death of me."

"You can't die, remember?"

Quinn tried to not hear the other girl's condescending giggle.

"All this, just to prove that I was telling the truth."

"Quinn, muttering doesn't become you."

Sarcastically, she replied, "So sorry, Berry."

Rachel straightened, turned to face Quinn and narrowed her eyes, "Let's get one thing straight here - my name is not Berry, it's Rachel; you've been handling saying my name very well recently, no need to revert back into bad habits."

Quinn sighed and nodded, "Sorry."

"Very good," Rachel turned back to the clothing rack and smirked to herself, "Fabray…"

The blonde groaned.

* * *

><p>"Clothes in the sixties were actually pretty groovy,"<p>

Quinn stared at Rachel, "Please don't tell me you just said groovy."

"And if I did?"

"Never mind," She sighed and grabbed the PAD once more, "Let's go to the opening night again."

"Very well," Rachel stepped closer to Quinn, the long skirt of Rachel's dress (which was a rather garish yellow and red number) swishing against Quinn's jean clad legs - just because Rachel was worried about the way she looked, didn't mean Quinn had to. She thought she looked pretty damn good. The jeans fit around her ass perfectly, the shirt showed off her figure…her hair looked cute…what was to change?

But when those doe brown eyes locked on her own hazel ones, she'd wished that Rachel was back in that damn polka dot dress - she wouldn't change the way the diva looked for the world.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe I'm actually here," Rachel was literally buzzing in her seat, eyes snapping everywhere, "I can't believe this is actually happening."<p>

Quinn smiled and glanced down at the playbill in her hand, "Believe it."

The brunette turned to look at the blonde and smiled, "Thank you, Quinn, for entrusting me with all of this."

Slowly the blonde nodded, "It's okay, really." Rachel seemed to contemplate something, and Quinn didn't push her, she just waited patiently, taking in the shining intensity of Rachel's brown eyes.

"You said you needed me…"

Ah. Wasn't expecting that. "Well, yeah."

"You don't need anyone, you never have."

"That's not true, I've needed a lot of people."

"For example?"

Uh. "My mother when I was pregnant?"

"I meant friends, Quinn…" Rachel whispered gently in a soft reply.

"Oh," Quinn glanced back down at the playbill, unwilling to look at the gentle prying in Rachel's eyes - silently asking for her to go on, "I've been able to handle a lot of things on my own. But I've depended on Puck,"

"-The father of your child."

Quinn bit her lip, "Mercedes."

"Who you moved in with while you were pregnant." Rachel's head tilted, and Quinn glanced at her in her peripheral vision, "Have you needed anyone when you weren't pregnant?"

Honestly, no. Quinn never wanted to depend on other people - they tended to disappear when she needed them most. Or if they didn't disappear, she felt as if her problems were miniscule when it came to other people's problems; she felt as if she was wasting time. Why depend on other people when in the end, you're on your own anyway? Her father kept his problems to himself, her mother did too, hell, even her older sister - she disappeared off the map after college. It was a Fabray thing - deal with your own problems and get on with it. Quinn never needed anyone - until -

"I needed you." Quinn faced her, "I still do."

Rachel lowered her voice and leaned forward slightly, "Why me, Quinn?"

"Because…" She gulped and glanced down at Rachel's lips, "I-,"

The orchestra fired up and Quinn shot back in her seat, her hands fisted on the arms of her chair. Rachel continued to stare, until slowly, she leaned back into her own seat and allowed herself to become engrossed in what was happening on stage.

She'd get it out of Quinn one day.

* * *

><p>"I, I, I don't even know why I'm crying!" Rachel blubbered, a ball of tissue braced at her eyes, "She was just so beautiful."<p>

Quinn covered her mouth with one hand, trying to fight back the laugh that so desperately wanted to escape, "Glad you thought so. You enjoyed it then?"

"Enjoyed it?" She threw the tissue into the waste bin by the toilet sinks and grabbed some more tissue, "I adored it! I'd heard stories, of course, about how Barbra nailed it on opening night…but by Moses, she _nailed_ it!"

Quinn smirked, "Yeah, she was pretty good."

"_Pretty good?_" Rachel stared at Quinn, "Were you not in the same theatre as me? When she sang Don't Rain on My Parade-,"

"She had nothing on you,"

"-I just wanted to melt into my seat." Rachel paused, "Excuse me?"

"I asked if you were ready to go," Quinn covered a blush by turning around and walking to the door.

Oh, Quinn had a lot to answer for.

* * *

><p>She couldn't meet Barbra, unfortunately. She had the chance, but the PAD was telling Quinn to get out of that time before something happened. The blonde apologized profusely , but Rachel just smiled and said it was fine - she'd meet Barbra one day…when she was receiving a Grammy for her albums or something along those lines.<p>

The two were transported back to their own time, in Quinn's room. By glancing at the clock on Quinn's bedside table, only ten minutes had passed.

"I'm trying to nail the times exactly, it's a little hard; I tend to get it scrambled by ten or fifteen minutes."

"It's fine," Rachel smiled and glanced down at her clothes, "I…completely forgot I was still wearing this."

Quinn chuckled, "Well, I'm a little taller than you, but I'm sure I have something you can wear." She wandered over to her closet and pulled it open, "My pants will drown you," Quinn quickly glanced over at Rachel, gave her the once over and then went back to searching her closet.

Rachel felt as if her whole body was on fire - just a simple glance from Quinn and she felt as if the blonde was literally undressing her.

"Shorts and a shirt." The next thing she knew, two pieces of clothing were thrown straight into her face, "Sorry, I forget how hard I throw things sometimes."

Rachel cleared her throat, and fought back the embarrassment, "It's fine, Quinn. Thank you." she clutched the clothes tightly in her hands, "Where should I-,?"

_God, right here._

"Quinn?"

"Oh, uhm…the en suite." She gestured over Rachel's shoulder and then turned back to the closet. She waited until she heard the familiar click of the door before letting out a long breath, "Damn…" She whispered.

**"Damn indeed."**

Quinn fell head first into the closet and groaned when her forehead impacted the back wall, narrowly avoiding the large picture of Jesus that she'd stowed in there. "Damn it, Homunculus."

Homunculus chuckled and watched as Quinn regained her feet, **"Coming out of the closet I see?"**

Quinn stopped rubbing her forehead and glared, "You're hilarious." She groaned when she felt a bruise form on her head, "Why are you here?"

**"I wondered if you'd retrieved your friend?"**

"Friend? Oh, you mean Santana. No, not yet. I will tomorrow."

**"You were adamant about having her returned. Yet you wait?"**

"I've already used the PAD a million times today, I don't want to blow it up or something."

Homunculus chuckled, **"Hm, you've been travelling quite a lot today, haven't you?"**

"…Yeah." She didn't know where this was going.

**"By yourself?"**

"No…"

**"Quinn, I don't need to tell you about the consequences of having someone else know about the PAD and it's powers. You've told two people now - can they both be trusted?"**

"I wouldn't have told them if I didn't trust them."

**"Alright, then I trust your judgement."** Homunculus glanced over his shoulder at the bathroom door, **"This is the girl you went to go see as a newborn?"**

Quinn nodded, "Yeah,"

**"May I ask why?"**

The blonde shrugged, "I thought she was why I was in 1994."

**"Why her?"**

"Don't you have all the answers?"

Homunculus smiled, eyes glowing a deep red. He clasped his hands together and nodded, **"I've seen many things over my lifetime, but I do not know all the answers; especially when it comes to you."**

"Me?"

The being seemed to smirk, **"You tend to _confuse_ me."**

Quinn couldn't understand how she could confuse someone like Homunculus. He wasn't even a human, from the looks of him - who had bright red eyes and chalk white skin anyway? He seemed to know a lot more than what he was letting on, and his riddles made him sound as if he was playing some sort of game - so how could someone as simple as a seventeen year old girl confuse him?

"I don't see how I can."

**"You're intentions are clouded, but they're not."**

"…Huh?"

**"Exactly,"** He chuckled and then glanced over his shoulder,** "I must go. Take care, Quinn. Try not to mess it up."**

"Mess what up?" Quinn asked as he was surrounded in a bubbling red glow.

**"I think you know."**

He was gone, and with a heavy sigh, Quinn walked over to her bed and face planted it. She was exhausted; she always seemed to be after talking with Homunculus. It'd been a long day, and she was beginning to drift off when she finally heard the en suite door open.

"Were you talking to someone?"

Quinn rose her head and glanced at Rachel, took in the pale blue polo shirt and the shorts that showed off those fabulous tanned legs, thighs muscular and -

"Jesus," The blonde face planted the bed once more and groaned into the sheets, "Christ."

"Are you okay?" Rachel asked, rushing over to the bed, "What's happened? Do you feel ill? Should I call a doctor? Your mother?" The diva's hand brushed through Quinn's locks, and she didn't miss the way the blonde's body shook when her nails scratched at her scalp. "Quinn?" She lowered her voice and leaned down slightly, "Are you okay?"

"Can you leave…?"

Rachel understood, "Of course." She stood and walked to the door, glancing back at Quinn, "I'll see you at school tomorrow. Please take care, Quinn."

"Yeah…" She heard muffled in reply. It took all her strength to walk out the door, knowing that she could kiss Quinn and get away with it.

She didn't know when everything changed between her and Quinn Fabray. It might have been when Quinn actually told her not to be pressured into having sex; she'd let her defences down, she'd allowed the blonde in, because it wasn't everyday Quinn Fabray offered you advice. Or maybe it was _that_ day in the girl's bathroom when her head was being shoved into a toilet bowl by a Cheerio, with Quinn standing idly by.

The way Quinn had pleaded to her - the way she'd asked if she could apologize - Quinn never asked, and she certainly didn't apologize; especially not to someone like Rachel Berry. She knew she was at the bottom of the school tier; she'd known that little nugget since her first day as a freshman - the ice cold slushy that had dripped down her face and onto her brand new argyle cat sweatshirt had been testament to that. So why was Quinn, the most popular girl in school (even when she wasn't a Cheerio) helping her out? Apologizing to her? Smiling at her? Joking with her? Complimenting her? Staring at her lips? Staring at _her_.

Quinn wasn't doing herself any favours - she wasn't really doing well at hiding the fact that she might have feelings for the diva. Rachel wasn't stupid - she knew the signs; the looks and the shy smiles. Obviously, the blonde thought she was hiding it pretty well, but obviously, she wasn't. Rachel wanted to blurt out that she knew, get Quinn to open up (because obviously, she must be so confused - and she'd already perfected what she'd say when the blonde fell into her arms and cried about how she can't love a girl because of her faith. Then they'd kiss, and they'd make love and-)

Where was she going with this…?

The thought of making love to Quinn Fabray set her body alight. The blonde was easily one of the most beautiful girls in the school - she didn't have this generic 'blonde, beautiful' thing going on; no, it was different. Quinn reminded her off the old actress' from Hollywood - for example, Grace Kelly, Elizabeth Taylor, Audrey Hepburn, Marilyn Monroe. She had an old style beauty, the way she spoke, the way she laughed and smiled - it reminded her of the women straight from those movies.

Quinn might have looked the same to every other beautiful girl in the world - but Rachel Berry knew she was different. But no, she wouldn't push Quinn - she'd let Quinn come to terms about her feelings and allow the blonde to come to her. She didn't want to ruin it before it had even began.

She smiled and snuggled deeper into her bed. The thought of Quinn Fabray actually having feelings for her, made her feel giddier than Finn or Noah or Jesse ever made her feel.

Quinn groaned and rolled over onto her stomach, burying her face deep into her pillow. The feeling hadn't gone - it'd been seven hours and it still hadn't gone. What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she get rid of it? The constant throb was beginning to irritate her now - it had killed her to sit through dinner with her mother, it had even killed her to watch TV with the woman.

Her mind was flooded with the thoughts and images of Rachel Berry, and no matter what she did, she couldn't get rid of them. The sleeping pills from two hours ago seemed to have no effect, and being in her most comfortable position in bed seemed to do nothing either.

She glanced at the clock - it was just past eleven, her mother had gone to bed long ago; she could easily get up and watch TV in the living room, but the thought of moving and shifting her legs had her on edge.

It was true that she knew how to get rid of the feeling, but no…she refused to do that in the house - especially with her mother in the same house; although there was two floors and a very deep sleeping mother separating them.

"Damn it," She groaned and clutched the bed sheets, almost ripping them free from the mattress when another vision of Rachel in those _damn_ shorts rushed through. "Why did you have to touch me?" She mumbled angrily into the pillow.

She was fine, she could have dealt with the image of Rachel in those shorts; her delicious legs and damn that ass - she could have dealt with it, but the fact that Rachel had to touch her - damn near scratch her. No. That wouldn't do.

With a defeated sigh, she slipped her left hand into her sweatpants, fingers sifting through trimmed curls. She tugged at them, hoping that the pain would somehow take away from the throbbing - but it made it worse. It sent a jolt straight to her clit, and she bit into her pillow to stifle a groan that threatened to burst free.

It was stupid, she'd always been able to handle her libido, but from how wet she was - she knew she couldn't control this. Her fingertips were drenched in her wetness, they slid gracefully over the folds of her slit, but she didn't touch her clit. No, if she touched there she'd be gone in a second - and although she wanted it gone, for some reason, she wanted to prolong it.

She turned her head to the side, allowing herself to breathe some fresh air as her hips slowly ground down against her fingers. She was soaked, the stickiness marred her thighs - how could a simple touch do this to her?

She had to make Rachel leave - and she was thankful that the brunette had just upped and left when she did; which surprised her. She expected the diva to demand why, to ask what she'd done - or maybe storm out. But no, she just agreed and left. There was a first time for everything.

Her eyes shut, and her thoughts stayed on Rachel. The hours that they'd spent together, the laughs they'd shared, the way that they'd leaned on one another while watching Funny Girl, the way that Rachel had lowered her voice and asked why she needed her…

"Fuck," The tip of her fingernail scratched against her clit, fully exposing it from it's hood, "Oh…fuck…" She flattened two finger against her clit and worked them against it, eyes squeezed shut, barely holding her hand steady from the wetness between her thighs. Her stomach clenched and tightened, her hips rocked the bed beneath her and her breaths came in heavy pants.

She knew she was almost there, and when she pinched her clit with those two fingers, she barely managed to stop herself from coming. Quinn knew it was the wrong thing to do - it would just make everything that little bit more worse, but she squeezed her eyes tighter together, said,

"Fuck me, Rachel…fuck me hard…"

And rode her damn hand like it was her job. Her free hand clenched at the pillow at her head, somehow wishing it was the beautiful brunette, and panted like a dog in heat.

"Oh God, oh fuck, I'm gonna - I'm gonna…" She bit down hard on her inner cheek, feeling something inside her body snap. The white hot feeling enveloped her whole body, and she let a scream go into her pillow when she felt her pussy clench beneath her fingers, "Rachel!"

* * *

><p>Glee Club was horrendous the next day - and it was a two hour day. She tried to avoid Rachel like she was the plague, but the diminutive diva always seemed to find a way to wander over and talk to her. Math, she needed to borrow a pencil. History, she'd left her book in her locker and needed to look at Quinn's. Lunch, she sat at the same table - thankfully she was sheltered between both Mercedes and Sam.<p>

"Babe, can we talk?" Speaking of Sam. She turned her head to look at him - had he done something with his hair? It didn't look as straight, and…was it a bit darker? She hadn't seen him out of school…or in school…for so long she'd forgotten what he looked like. "Is there something wrong? You've been acting all sorts of weird."

Oh yeah, she'd only been masturbating to McKinley High's resident diva, while having a boyfriend, who did nothing for her. He was a status symbol, that was about it. He was sweet, she couldn't deny that - he was a geek, and she liked geeks, they were cute and the way he spoke to her in Naavi sometimes made her smile - but she couldn't deny.

She quickly glanced over to the piano. Rachel was sat at it, Finn sat beside her. Their head's were hunched down, they whispered to one another in quiet tones. Quinn saw red.

"You don't talk to me anymore, it's a little weird. I know I haven't seen you a lot, but…have I done something to upset you or-,"

She slapped both hands down on his cheeks and pulled him in to a crushing kiss. It felt awkward, and she fought the urge to run away when his tongue brushed against her lips. She took it in her stride, and brushed her tongue back up against his when Rachel glanced her way.

Eyes connected and locked - and she swore she saw something in Rachel's eyes. Hurt. Now she just felt like a bitch. She pushed Sam away and fell back into her chair, discreetly wiping her lips, "You haven't upset me."

He smiled dopily, "Obviously."

She shivered at the look Rachel gave her, and then when Finn looked up, furrowed his eyebrows at her and then looked back down at Rachel, she knew she'd done the wrong thing. A moment of jealousy and she'd thrown Rachel back into Finn's field.

"Fuck,"

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, leaning down to catch her eyes.

"Nothing," She sighed, defeated, "It's nothing."

The last forty minutes of Glee Club were beginning to drag - Mr. Schuester had, yet again, gone out to photocopy more sheet music. It was amazing how much paper the guy went through, they all knew the songs anyway - they ended up just being thrown across the room when we finally got into the swing of the song.

The kids were talking amongst themselves - Sam had his arm wrapped protectively around Quinn's shoulders, Rachel still sat at the piano with Finn. They'd barely moved.

"So what was that about?"

"What was what about?" Rachel asked, avoiding the question as she arranged the sheet music for Brad when he returned from his toilet break.

"Quinn and Sam going to town on each other," Finn glanced up at the pair before returning his eyes to Rachel, "They're acting all lovey. I thought you said Quinn liked you."

"She does,"

Okay, now he didn't understand. When people liked each other, they told each other, right? They didn't…make out with other people, did they? No, that wasn't right. Finn groaned, women confused the hell out of him. So much so he'd thought about converting to his step-brother's life style. That lasted all of two minutes. He couldn't handle kissing another dude.

"Then…why did she…like…"

"Finn, you're floundering."

He just stared at her. Rachel was an amazing girl but her vocabulary sucked for him.

Rachel sighed, "She likes me, she just wants to prove a point."

"Point?"

"She's trying to show that she isn't gay," The diva thought about looking over at the blonde, but the thought of seeing the two of them together, although she knew it was faked, made her blood boil, "She's scared."

"Of being gay?"

"Of being gay, and me."

"You?"

Mr Schuester chose that moment to walk back in, and with a heavy sigh, Rachel shook her head, "I'll tell you later."

She'd been watching the way Quinn acted around Sam. The first thing she caught onto was that Quinn _never_ really smiled in his presence. Sure, she had that little smile on her face - but it was the same she wore when she couldn't really be bothered. Not like the smile she'd given the brunette when they'd gone back in time to see Funny Girl.

It was still shocking, that'd she'd actually gone back in time. At first she thought it couldn't be real - time travel was impossible, no such thing existed. But no, clear as day she'd gone back in time with Quinn and travelled back with only a ten minute gap to prove it. She knew she should have questioned it more, but the way Quinn told her story made Rachel believe in what she was saying. She believed her with every fibre of her being.

So it was easy not to believe Quinn when she was around her so called boyfriend. The two were never really seen together except for Glee, and perhaps lunch time. Even during football games, that Sam was always in, Quinn never really showed herself at them (even when she was a Cheerio) she tended to get on with her routine, cheer a little bit and disappeared when it was over.

Quinn was once again, doing a terrible job of hiding her feelings. And poor Sam, believed every word that came out of her mouth.

She cornered the blonde at her car - a dark red Ford that was parked on the far edge of the school parking lot. She was looking down into her bag, pulling out what she remembered as the PAD.

"Quinn," The blonde's head snapped up, and instantly she turned around, PAD still clutched in her hands. "Time to go?"

"Oh," Quinn glanced down at the device in her hands, fingering the metal with the tips of her fingers, "Yeah, I need to go find Santana. I just hope I can."

Rachel nodded, "I could come with you?"

"I'd rather you didn't," She paused, "I mean, I don't want you to go missing too. It's hard enough finding one person, let alone another."

"True…" Rachel took a step forward, watching as Quinn backed up against the car, "Why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not."

Rachel raised an eyebrow, "I know what avoiding someone looks like, and you're doing a pretty good impression."

"I…" The blonde cleared her throat and slowly shut her eyes.

"Oh no you don't," Rachel snatched the PAD from Quinn's hands, "You're not disappearing on me in the middle of a conversation, Fabray. It's bad manners and not to mention, rude."

"So is stealing people's property," Quinn sneered, snatching the device back, "_Berry_."

The brunette crossed her arms over her chest, and Quinn tried her hardest to keep her eyes on the diva's eyes and not the area when they seemed to be drifting to lately, "Quinn, I think you know what's going on between us."

"Nothing's going on." Quinn replied pointedly, shaking her head, almost refusing to believe what Rachel had to say.

"Don't deny this, Quinn." She added, desperately, "Please."

Quinn's fist clenched around the PAD, allowing the delicious pain of metal digging into skin to envelope her. She couldn't let this happen. She had a boyfriend, she wasn't gay and she certainly didn't make herself scream last night calling Rachel's…

She sighed.

"I'm going through a tough time right now, I don't want you involved."

"I can help you."

"I'm trying to help myself right now, I can't have you around - I'd worry about you too much."

Rachel smiled bashfully, "Thank you…" She took a step closer, and almost jumped for joy when Quinn didn't try to move away, "But someone needs to take care of you too. It hurts to know someone is trying to _kill_ you."

"It hurts you?" Quinn asked quietly, openly.

The brunette nodded, no words willing to come out of her mouth.

Quinn stepped forward, "I can keep dying, but I can't _die_. I promise I'll come back. With Santana."

"Do you have to?" Quinn's eyes went wide, and then she chuckled when she realized the shorter girl was just kidding, "I'm joking, obviously…but please Quinn, take care of yourself."

She nodded, "I will."

"Promise me," She swallowed thickly, "That we'll talk about this when you get back. You won't try to hide away from me anymore, or act like this didn't happen. Promise me that you'll take care of yourself."

"I," she sighed, barely keeping it together, why did she feel like crying all of a sudden? "I promise."

The kiss to her cheek burnt her skin, but not in a painful way. Her body thrummed with a hidden energy, and a lone tear slipped down her cheek. She felt as if she was at home. A simple kiss on the cheek calmed her, and the shy smile and wave that Rachel gave her made her not want to leave at all.

But 1556 was calling, and so was Santana.


	10. Chapter 9

**Shadow of Fate - Chapter 9**

The jolt that shot through her temple didn't register until she felt something warm trickle down the side of her face. Lazily raising her hand, she dabbed at the moisture, and with blurry unfocused eyes, finally realized what it was.

Blood.

She dropped to her knees, feeling unconsciousness ready to take her into it's arms. The streetlight cast a low glow in the side street, and with barely open eyes, she saw someone behind her, the shadow's arms raising high above it's head, hands clutching something long, but thick, before coming back down again.

Then she remembered nothing at all.

* * *

><p><strong>"Even entering a time zone, you are eligible for death. It seems your killer is getting a little antsy."<strong>

"Yeah," Quinn croaked, feeling a headache form right behind both eyeballs. It hurt, and when she stood her vision fuzzed a bit, but she managed just the same. "So every time I enter a time zone I'm likely to be killed now?"

**"No, but just expect it. Be on your guard."**

"I'm always on my guard, but it doesn't seem to stop me getting killed."

Homunculus chuckled from his spot on the top of the huge double doors. His ankles were crossed, fingers tapping a haphazard tune on the frame, **"You haven't been guarded lately. You haven't had an attempt on your life in a while, so you assumed the worst was over."** He paused, **"You were wrong."**

The doors swung open and Quinn sighed, **"Good luck, Quinn."**

* * *

><p>Tracking down Santana wouldn't be an easy job - Lima, although hardly developed in 1556, was still pretty big. The Latina could have been anywhere in the town, if she was still alive. Quinn gulped as she glanced around the town centre - Santana would have to be still alive, the people in Lima seemed decent enough; especially the ones that she'd had the pleasure of meeting.<p>

She didn't know where to start, the town hall was shut at this time of night and the centre seemed to be deserted. The faint glow of lanterns that hung teetering from walls only shone in certain places, casting heavy almost ghoulish shadows.

Quinn had to watch her steps as she wandered into the night - she avoided the street she'd gone down when she was murdered, but even the gentle breeze and the rustling of trees was enough to make her jump. Her killer was in this time, somewhere, stalking her, playing her. Homunculus' advice was solid, but hard to do.

The blonde's first thought was to go to the butcher's and talk to Mary, but she stopped halfway there when she realized the butcher wasn't even a year old yet. With a sigh, she stopped, pressed herself up against a wall and glanced around. It seemed that no one was following her, but the fact that she Iknew/I someone was out there had her terrified. As she continued back the way she came, she glanced down every street, pressed herself up against walls when nearby sounds became too loud, and made sure to run when she caught sight of a fishy looking shadow.

Then she heard it, a rustling. It was faint, but she picked up on it. It was coming from her right, near what looked like an impromptu cemetery. There were a few misshapen wooden crosses stuck into the solid ground, and the way that the moon cast a glow across the field made Quinn shudder. Then the rustling stopped, but she didn't move on, she stared into the distance, not trusting herself to move until she knew that no one was there.

She should be in one of those graves. She'd died countless times, and she knew deep in her gut that she'd die again. Those people died once - why did she have the right to come back and live her life?

What Homunculus had told her rang from a distant memory - Dr. Russell was vital to her existence, to her life, to her legacy. And from what she knew, in this time, Dr. Russell was still alive and well.

Then the rustling again. The bushes shook, and she didn't know why but she moved toward them. Her killer was stealthy, there was no way they'd make such a mistake - unless it was a trap.

She stopped, "Whoever you are, come out now."

Her voice rang strong, and she was surprised by how confident she sounded. Deep inside she was fucking terrified.

"I mean it, come out now."

_"Promise me that you'll take care of yourself."_

She was breaking her promise, jumping head first into a dangerous situation. She thought she heard Rachel's voice, trying to tell her to come back, to stop what she was doing - but she continued nonetheless.

"I'll alert the authorities."

Then the bush shook and she took a large step back, hands clutched into fists at her sides, ready to put up a fight. Then what emerged shocked her - a small boy, brown hair, blue eyes. "Please don't call the authorities, I wasn't harming anyone."

"I've seen you before," Quinn's eyes narrowed as she took a step forward, "Where?"

The little boy looked up at her with wide eyes, "You were in my house - you were talking to my mother."

The boy on the stairs. Samuel.

"Ah." Quinn smiled genuinely and crouched down in front of him, eye level with him, "And why are you out at this time of night?"

Samuel shrugged his little shoulders gently, "I couldn't sleep, and the baby was crying. I just wanted to have a walk by myself."

"You know it's dangerous out here at night, don't you?" Her motherly instincts kicked in and she placed a hand gently on his shoulder, "You could have been hurt."

The boy nodded, "I know, but really, I just wanted to have a walk…"

"And now you've had your walk," Quinn stood once more, "And now I'm taking you home."

With a sigh, Samuel trudged ahead, scuffed cloth shoes sliding against the dirt road. His head was lowered, almost as if he was walking to his own funeral. Quinn made sure to keep an eye on the boy as they walk - just in case the little guy made a break for it. The blonde might have been an athlete, but just the thought of running after a guy that was probably a bundle of energy made her legs ache.

"My mother will be angry," Samuel commented, talking for the first time in five minutes. "She doesn't like it when I'm not there to help with my baby sister."

"And why's that?"

"Father should be helping, but he's stuck down in the basement working on a project. I've tried going down to ask if he'll come up, but he doesn't even realize I'm there." He sounded so heartbroken, and a part of Quinn just wanted to sob for the poor boy. Although her father couldn't give two tosses about her, she knew how it felt to have a father that paid no attention to anyone but himself and his own needs. "So I help mother with my sister instead."

"You must be an amazing son then; helping out your mother like that."

"Yes, I suppose so." To say the boy was only around the age of six, he sounded and acted more mature for his age - but providing the fact that he literally had to do his father's job, it didn't surprise the blonde.

They reached Samuel's house, and instead of the boy just walking straight in, he stood stock still at Quinn's side, looking up at her with wide eyes. Something in his eyes tugged at her, like she'd seen the look a thousand times. "Will you talk to my mother?"

Quinn nodded, "I'll try, but it still doesn't change the fact that you shouldn't have been out this late. How old are you…?"

He sighed and looked down at his shoes, scuffing the toe against the brick door frame, "Six, but I'm nearly seven. I'll be seven in two months and three days."

"Even if you were seven, you shouldn't be out this late, Samuel."

The boy nodded, "Yes."

She ran a hand through his brown hair, trying to calm his nerves before she pulled her hand away and knocked heavily on wooden door. She took one step, and tried to hide her mirth when Samuel did the exact same.

The door eventually opened, and a tired looking Elizabeth appeared from behind the door. She had heavy bags under her eyes, her skin looked chalky and pale - she looked as if she hadn't slept in days. The older woman held a bundle in her arms, a tiny face poking out from the thick blanket.

"Samuel?" Her eyes narrowed in on her son before shooting up to the blonde, "Quinn, was it?"

"Yes it is," She smiled and glanced down at Sam quickly, "I found your son near the cemetery. I brought him back."

"Hm," Elizabeth sighed, "I thought I tucked you into bed over an hour ago Samuel, how on earth did you get outside without my knowledge?"

He mumbled something - his mother chided him for not speaking more clearly and made him repeat himself, "You were busy with _Mary._"

The older woman sighed, stepped back from the door and with a quick nod of her head said, "Come on in, the both of you. It's getting cold out."

The home was just as Quinn had left it – although the medicine cabinet looked a lot less stocked than before. If what Samuel had said was right, if Dr. Russell was so busy with his new 'project', he mustn't have had time to make all the necessary medicine. It was weird though, she knew the family made their profits from their small time pharmacy, so why was the one thing that kept them going, being put on a back burner?

"Off to bed with you Samuel – I'll talk to you tomorrow morning about what's warranted this attitude change in you."

The little boy huffed slightly, and the way his shoulder's hunched reminded her of the storm outs her older sister used to give when she was only little. The heavy stomping up the wooden stairs reminded her of the infamous storm outs that one Rachel Barbra Berry gave daily.

It made her chuckle.

Elizabeth smiled at the blonde, "Something funny?" Her smile seemed worn, like it was a push to even do it, and Elizabeth's face didn't light up like before.

"Your son just reminded me of someone I knew, that's all."

The older woman nodded slightly and glanced down at the baby cradled in her arms, "Would you hold her while I go talk to my husband?"

Oh, no…no she couldn't do that. She raised her arms in silent protest, but Elizabeth took it the wrong way. With a smile, genuine this time, she handed little Mary over and adjusted the blanket around the little girls face, "I'll be back in a few minutes. Please make yourself comfortable." She gestured over to a nearby room and before Quinn even had chance to respond, she was already shutting the basement door behind her.

It was awkward to say to least, and as she carried to baby gingerly into the family's living room which only had a few seats and a small wood fire, she tried not to cringe whenever Mary moved. She took a seat on a worn seat, wooden of course – it seemed all of the furniture in the house was made from hand. Maybe Dr. Russell did it before he became a hobbit down below?

The baby moved in her arms, and in reflex, she leaned forward, cradling the baby against her chest. Maybe it was cold? She adjusted the blanket so it was tighter and then when Mary calmed down, she realized she'd made the right call. She wasn't stupid, she'd babysat before – because hello, although she had semi-rich parents didn't mean she got money on tap. She worked for money, and babysitting was the only thing she was willing to do.

But that was before Beth. Beth, the baby that she'd given up for adoption, the child that she knew deserved a better life than the one that she could have given her. Quinn wanted a life, and knowing if she kept Beth she wouldn't have one – she'd be stuck in Lima, in a dead end job, and eventually, she'd begin to detest her child for taking her future away. She couldn't let that happen, not when that baby, so sweet and innocent lay in her arms, looked up at her with wonder in its eyes.

No, Beth deserved a life with a mother that could give her the love she deserved; the life she deserved. It killed her, but she did it, and she doesn't regret it. Well, part of her does, because that baby is her flesh and blood. But it was too late to go back now; Beth was almost a year old.

The PAD pressed deliciously against her outer thigh and she sighed – it all seemed so simple. Go to the time of Beth's conception and just put a stop to it, or go back to that time, in the hospital bed, Regional's, and tell Puck that Beth was staying.

The urge to do it was overwhelming, but she stayed strong – Shelby was happy with the baby she never had, she couldn't destroy a woman's life like that, even though said woman crushed Rachel's hopes of having a mother in her life. No, she'd keep it the way it was.

Mary's eyes fluttered open, and a low whine brought Quinn's attention back to the bundle in her arms. "Hey…" She adjusted her arm and gently prodded the tip of Mary's nose, smiling when the tiny baby scrunched up her whole face, "Least you're not making me eat cow heart…"

"Cow heart is very healthy," Quinn jumped at Elizabeth's voice, "Oh don't look so shocked, Quinn. I'm very quiet when I want to be…" The older woman wandered over to the pair and gently took the baby back into her own arms, "After all, that's a mother's best skill, correct?"

"I uhm," The blonde cleared her throat, "I wouldn't know."

Elizabeth continued to smile down at the bundle in her arms, "Do you plan to have children one day, Quinn?"

Quinn's jaw slackened and then clenched tightly, "One day, when I'm ready."

The older woman looked to Quinn, "I am sure you will be a fine mother, Quinn."

The blonde just nodded, and glanced down the hem of her shirt, pulling at the worn edges nervously. She wanted to get off this topic – this was the one thing she didn't want to talk about, or even think about. Thankfully, Elizabeth noticed the way that Quinn seemed to block herself off and dropped the subject.

"Well, apart from saving my son from a row of bushes, is there a reason you're here?"

Quinn chuckled, "I'm just here to find my friend," She looked up, noticing that Elizabeth somehow kept one eye on Mary and one eye on her. It was weird, "I saw Samuel when I was walking around and just thought I'd drop in."

"It's appreciated," The older woman smiled, "It's good to actually talk to someone for once…" She trailed off, and Quinn watched as the older woman trailed the tip of her index finger down the side of Mary's face, stopping to gently press on the tiny chin.

"You don't talk to anyone?"

"My husband is terribly busy of late; I find it hard to get him to look up from his work."

"That must hurt you," Quinn whispered, noting how Elizabeth's eyes seemed to shine in the low light of the fire, "Has…your husband seen your daughter yet?"

Elizabeth sighed, "He was there for the birth," She shrugged her shoulders gently, "Naturally…but not since then. It's like he's forgotten she existed. He hardly speaks to me, fails to notice his child, or his growing son that's becoming more and more agitated as the days go on." She took a seat beside Quinn, "I just do not know what to do, especially when it comes to Samuel. He needs a male figure in his life, and the only one he has is stuck in a basement."

"Have you tried talking to Dr. Russell…?"

Elizabeth chuckled lightly, "Oh of course I have, but it falls on deaf ears."

"Leave him then," Quinn replied flippantly, biting her lip afterwards. Where the hell did that come from? Elizabeth seemed shocked too, and then with a sigh, she glanced back down toward Mary.

"A mother of two children and no husband…? How would I survive? What would the community think of me? I could not do that, Quinn."

Of course she could do it, but the thought of leaving the security blanket of her husband was too terrifying to her. Quinn could relate; after being kicked out of her home when her parent's found out she was pregnant, she obviously felt unprotected. She was a Fabray, but she wasn't at the same time. She had no power behind her name, her status – she was just another average person in an average town. A statistic.

"Then force him to notice, tell him you'll leave him." When the older woman opened her mouth to interject, Quinn held up her hand, "Hear me out. Tell him you'll leave him if he doesn't pay more attention to you, or at least come up from the basement. It's a scare tactic, always works."

Thank you Sue Sylvester.

"Hm," Elizabeth nodded, "I will think on it, until then, I will just 'deal with it'."

Quinn laughed lightly, "Okay." Then she stood, "It was nice talking to you, but I should really get going."

They both walked to the door, a now very awake and fidgety Mary in her mother's arms as they reached the door. "Oh," The blonde glanced at the medicine cabinet, "Uh…What happened to all the medicine?"

Elizabeth glanced at the cabinet and then back to Quinn, "My husband is too busy to make medicine, and the meagre stock we had left went to the Lord of the Manor."

"Lord?"

The older woman nodded, "He's become very ill, his carers come every other day to pick out more medicine to try. They've depleted the stock, I'm afraid." Then her face went pale, "Oh, you didn't want anything did you?"

Quinn shook her head, "No, I'm fine. Thank you though," She opened the door, "Remember what I said."

"I will be sure to heed your advice, young Quinn."

Quinn smiled.

* * *

><p>Now she was stuck – she hadn't thought to ask Elizabeth about Santana, and now she was already two streets away from the house. It seemed pointless going back, and if the older woman's expression had anything to go by, she was ready to fall asleep.<p>

"Damn…" Quinn groaned and ran a hand through her hair, casually glancing up side streets. The only place she could go was the town hall, and that was shut. She had no other choice, and although she was still worried about using the PAD too often, she pulled it out of her pocket and shut her eyes.

It'd worked, granted she was about an hour out, but she'd managed to make it to the next morning without much fuss. She didn't know what time it was, and glancing down at the PAD she realized it was already late morning. 11am.

The town was already bustling, and the daily market was a hive of activity for punters and customers alike. Quinn actually had to stop at one point, because although it was still uncooked, the bacon that one of the dealer's was selling looked divine.

She was used the weird looks she got because of her outfit, and she didn't let it bother her. The sneers she was used to, especially from three women especially. Two older women, one tall and thin, the other robust and small – and one small child, clinging to the thin woman like her life depended on it. They didn't even try to whisper as she passed them, they gladly spoke their minds, loudly for the rest of the market to hear.

"The hussy – what is she wearing?"

"She looks like common muck. How is she not in the stocks?"

"Mother, why is she dressed so…_weird_."

Quinn just rolled her eyes, and then plastered a fake smile on her face as she passed. Those three women meant nothing to her – why bother trying to pick a fight? True, she was pissed – they had no right to speak about her like that, but she could control her temper unlike…

Santana.

"Oh damn, she's dead…" Quinn groaned, "She's gotta be…"

The girl always stuck up for herself, and her damn mouth had no filter whatsoever. It would be a damn miracle if Santana had survived without saying 'fuck' a million times and an added 'what's in my weave' comment.

Would people in this time even know what a weave was?

The town hall was just as she remembered, and jumping up the steps, two at a time she made her way into the building. The set up was a little different compared to when she was here in the future, the outlay seemed to have shifted. The main desk wasn't right in front of the front doors, it was way in the back of the huge entrance hall.

She shifted around people to get to the allusive desk, and after a mild staring competition with a sixty year old woman when she bumped into the blonde, she made it relatively intact.

"Yes?" The man seemed uninterested as he sifted through some papers on a makeshift desk.

"I was wondering if you'd seen a woman around."

"I see a lot of women, pretty lady." He smirked up at Quinn, "What sorta girl are you talking about?"

Quinn sighed and reigned in her temper, "A tallish girl, tan, black hair, she was wearing a short skirt when she first arrived here."

"Short skirt you say?" He leaned back on his stool and bit his bottom lip, eyes travelling up and down Quinn's body, "You wouldn't happen to have the skirt on you, would you? To try it on…? You know…for…investigative purposes."

She snapped.

"Okay, first of all - gross. Second of all - I'd rather jump in a pit of lava than wear a skirt for you. Thirdly, have you seen my fucking friend?"

"…No..."

"Thank you,"

She turned on her heel s and stomped away.

* * *

><p>Okay, so now she was screwed. With a heavy sigh she dropped to the town hall steps and rested her forearms on her knees. She'd been kicked out of the town hall before she could even reach the door – and with a warning she was let go. She<em> really<em> didn't want to be stuck in the stocks for three days.

"Thank God Rachel wasn't with me," She mumbled through a chuckle, dropping her head. She knew the tiny diva would have called out the guy on his attitude more than she had, and demanded that someone try and track down Santana. Quinn was used to getting what she wanted, but _demanding_ things in a time where she didn't belong made her feel a bit uncomfortable.

It seemed as if Rachel had no problem, regardless of the era was in. It was surprising how easily the diva had adjusted to the whole 'time travel, trying to stop my own death' thing, and Quinn was surprised how much Rachel wanted to back her up - to travel with her.

She smiled to herself, and silently giggled – for some reason, Rachel seemed to have that effect on her. She just seemed to smile more, and not one of those forced fake ones either. It was genuine, a smile that she wanted to share with the brunette.

And now their emotions were converging together – and for some reason, it felt right. Although Quinn was still with Sam, it's like he didn't exist when Rachel Berry was in the picture. The blonde knew she'd have to let him go sooner or later – it wasn't fair on him…and to be fair, the daily Na'vi love notes in her locker were beginning to freak her out.

She knew she cared more for Rachel, and that's why Sam had to go. It came down to one thing. With Sam, she never had to fight back the urge to stutter (a problem that arose when she was six and she managed to control when she hit 13) but with Rachel there was always an urge – right in the back of her throat. It was getting harder as the days went on, and she'd somehow managed to control it – but after the rather chaste kiss to the cheek it had broken a barrier.

Hopefully she would have some form of control when she got back to her time.

With a sigh, she rose to her feet and began descending the stone steps of the town hall. She'd only just reached the bottom step when she stopped in her tracks – a blur of black hair and tanned skin.

"Santana…!" Quinn jumped the remaining stairs and broke into a run, dodging passers-by as she made her way toward the direction the woman was going. She skidded to a halt around the corner and groaned. There were people, but no Santana.

"For fu-," With a long and heavy breath, Quinn calmed herself.

_I wasn't imagining it. Santana is alive._

"Dammit, when did you become a ninja, S?" Quinn glanced around, doing a slow 360, taking in the people around her. It was still busy, being only a street away from the town centre. There was a vast range of people, but not one was Santana. The blonde huffed, "Well fuck."

She heard a door open behind her, and she thought nothing of it, until a soft click and then her name, "Quinn?"

She swirled on the heels of her feet and her jaw dropped heavily. Santana, in a very prudish dress, all the way down to her ankles. Her hair left flowing at her shoulders - looking in bad condition if Quinn had anything to go by, but then again, she doubted they had half the stuff that Santana put in her hair in 1556.

"Yes!" The blonde launched herself into the Latina's arms, wrapping her legs around her waist. She heard the other girl grunt under her weight, but she just clung on, scared that if she left go the Latina would just disappear again.

"Q, get the fuck off me…" Santana grunted through clenched teeth and eventually with some prying and a few knocks to the forehead by Santana's clenched fist, Quinn lowered herself to the ground, silly grin still on her face.

"Thank God you're alive, I thought you'd have been killed."

"Why?"

"Because of your motor mouth. People were prudes," She glanced around, catching sight of three familiar women stood staring, mouths agape at the show of public affection, "Are prudes," She rephrased.

"People swear in this time, Q. Stop getting your damn panties in a twist."

Quinn frowned, then sobered, "Anyway…what've you been doing with yourself-,"

"Since you left me in this damn time?"

The blonde bit her inner cheek, "Yeah…sorry about that S…"

"Sorry?" Santana's eyes narrowed, slowly taking steps toward the blonde, who had the good idea to back off, "You're sorry that you left me in a time where hygiene is at the bottom of the list? I haven't eaten properly, if I get one more whiff of rotting meat in the morning I might scream, everyone is a damn prude so I can't get my mack on, all I do all day is Ifucking/I work and I get slim to nothing for it anyway." Santana's voice rose exponentially, "And I'm wearing a fucking _curtain!_"

Quinn stopped when she realized she'd backed herself into a wall, usually she wasn't scared of the Latina - she could handle Santana - but something about the way that Quinn could somehow see into her best friend's mind and see how she was planning to slowly torture her, had her a little worried.

"Look, the PAD said I had to go back, otherwise I would have stayed, S." The blonde scratched the back of her neck gently, "Then I kinda got side tracked by some stuff and I've only just managed to get through."

"Oh…so me being stuck in a different timeline is a smaller problem compared to this 'other stuff'. Tell me, Q…what stuff did you have to sort that you couldn't come and pick me the hell up."

Okay, scary Santana.

"Uh, well, I had to sort some things out with Homunculus, and then I got sent to 1994, I got killed again - which really hurt by the way- I had to sort some things out with Rachel and-,"

"Whoa," Santana held her hand up, palm facing Quinn's face, effectively shutting her up. The Latina stared into space, looking right over the blonde's shoulder. "Say again."

Quinn wasn't stupid, she knew what Santana had wanted her to repeat.

"I had sort some things out with Rachel,"

"Since when did the hobbit become _Rachel_?"

"Look, there's a lot to explain, and I can't do it right now. Come back with me to 2011 and I'll tell you everything then."

"Tell me now."

Quinn groaned, "No…" She reached into her pockets and pulled out her PAD, "Come on, I'll tell you as soon as we're back in 2011. I'm worried if I stay here too long I might change something."

Santana stared down at her friend, and then slowly blinked once and let out a long breath, "I'm not going back."

"Excuse me?" Quinn asked quickly, voice low.

"I have nothing in that time for me, Q. Has my mom even noticed I've been gone for-," She paused and allowed Quinn to tell her how long she'd been gone, "A week?"

"Well…I haven't really seen your mom."

Santana scoffed, "Has anyone noticed I was gone? Actually, did anyone care?"

"I cared," Quinn paused, "Brittany cares."

"Oh please, you cared because you had to with your guilty ass. B…just cares about everyone…so it's not much of a help."

"B loves you."

"Q," Santana sighed, "Don't start this. There's nothing for me back in out time…and I might kind of like it here. Sure I complain a lot, but I've actually done something with my life. Did you know I'm a nurse?"

"No…I didn't."

Santana chuckled half-heartedly, "Yeah…didn't take much. Coach Sylvester's summer trip to the woods freshman year helped a lot. Apparently you can be a nurse if you can just wrap a damn bandage." Then the Latina's shoulders rolled, "So no, I have no reason to go back."

"What about us? Glee Club? Brittany?"

This couldn't be real - Santana was actually refusing to go back into the future with her? It wasn't her choice to make, if the Latina wanted to stay or not, and the fact that Santana kind of liked it in 1556 Lima, made Quinn feel a little guilty into making her come back. But the thought of keeping a girl who was originally born in 1994 and sticking her in 1556 was not a good move to make. Quinn was no expert on time travel, but she knew that the scenario was fucked up.

The fact that Santana wouldn't even go back from Brittany, a girl who adored the Latina with every beat of her heart, just made Quinn down right angry.

"You know what, fine. Stay here. I'll just go back and tell Brittany some half assed story about how you left state or something and that you had nothing to say to her before you left. I'll make you out to be a real cow, because really, right now, that's what you are. And I'm putting it lightly. You just don't want to go back because you hate seeing B with Artie, and genuinely, I _understand_ that, but the fact you won't even _try_ to sort it out, makes you a fucking pussy."

Quinn took a long breath, calming herself. Her cheeks were flushed with irritation, but also with the fact she'd cursed so much. She hated cursing.

"You've never spoken to me like this before…"

The blonde nodded, "I know."

"If I said you were right, and you're not, what would change if I went back?"

Quinn scanned Santana's face, and kicked away from the wall she was leaning against, resting her hands on the Latina's shoulders. They never really touched - Santana had a personal bubble that only Brittany had the right to enter, and the fact that the tan girl allowed Quinn to touch her, meant something.

"You love her, right?"

Santana said nothing.

"I'm not an expert on these things - you know that too well. But recently, I've…come to realize a few things. Don't give up just because it seems hopeless, keep trying, keep going for what you want."

"She loves him," Santana mumbled quietly, eyes stuck on Quinn's.

"She loves you _too_. I know she does, and she's lost without you by her side. You need be there, for your sake and hers."

"I'm…kinda scared, Q."

"I am too…" the blonde whispered, almost to herself without thinking, "But we need to try, right? Even if it is a lost cause?"

A tear streaked down Santana's cheek, and quickly she wiped it away, "Give me a few hours, I need to sort some things out. Come to the manor house."

Quinn nodded and let her hands drift from Santana's shoulders back down to her sides, "Okay. I'll come find you in three hours, at the manor house."

"Fine." Santana turned and walked away, but stopped only a few feet from the blonde, "I don't have to tell you to keep this quiet."

Quinn grinned, "Can't let people know you're really a bit softy at heart?"

Santana's shoulders shook gently, "Only when it comes to her, it seems." Then Santana continued on, "I expect to know everything about Berry when we get back."

"B-Rachel…?"

"Hm, but for some reason, I think I already know." And she disappeared around a corner, leaving Quinn in the middle of a busy street, people milling around her like she didn't even exist.

"You always were perceptive, S."

* * *

><p>"Samuel!" Quinn grinned and waved over to the brunette who was sat reading a small book, "Hey…" She jogged up to him and stopped, collapsing down beside him where he sat against the wall of his house on the floor.<p>

"Hi." He glanced down at his book, effectively ignoring her.

"So…how did things go with your mom the morning?"

"She shouted at me." He shrugged his small shoulders and slowly flipped a page in his book, "I'm used to it. All that she has done is shout at me recently."

"Oh…?" Quinn lowered her head to try and catch the brunette's eyes. It was futile, his eyes remained glued on the pages.

"I know it has to do with father, but she takes it out on me." He sighed, "I don't like it at all. I tried talking to father this morning about it and he just ignored me."

"So you came out here to be by yourself?"

"Yes."

Quinn felt sorry for the boy - all he seemed to want was a father figure in his life, and the fact that he had a more than capable father, hurt Quinn. Samuel reminded her or herself when it came to the relationship with her father. Russell was her father, but in her mind, only down on paper. He acted nothing like a father, but he was there, in the background.

"Do you want me to talk to him?"

Samuel sighed, "He won't talk to you, he's too busy with his _project_."

"Well, I can try right?" She smiled, and watched as Samuel slowly raised his head, regarded her for a few seconds and then smiled slightly, "Right?"

"Right," He looked down to his book, "My mother is out at the market, she always goes around this time. You probably have an hour until she gets back."

"Okay," Quinn rose to her feet, brushed to dust from her backside, "Can I just go in?"

Samuel just nodded.

The basement was like any other basement, except for the fact it had a mega sized cauldron in the centre of the room. Stone steps descended into a dimly lit room, papers lay strewn across the floor and several different tables that lay dotted around the room. A tall man stood in the centre, glancing down to the paper in his hand before stirring a thick liquid in the cauldron with the other.

The smell was heavy, thick, and Quinn had to wipe some moisture away from her upper lip as she hit the bottom step.

Dr. Russell didn't even noticed that a stranger was in his basement/laboratory and Quinn felt a little uneasy when he didn't. So she clasped her hands behind her back, coughed gently and said, "Uhm, D-Dr. Russell…?"

She cringed at the minor stutter.

The man's head snapped up, and shiny blue eyes narrowed on the blonde. His greying brown hair was slightly longer than normal, pushed back and tucked behind his ears. He seemed over powering with the way his robe fluttered as he turned to regard her, "Who are you? Why are you in my basement?"

"I'm sorry f-for intruding. I'm Quinn Fabray…I'm a friend of your wife?"

"I never realized Elizabeth had such young friends…"

Quinn bit back the first reply she had in mind which was something along the lines of: You'd know if you actually paid attention to your family, and settled with, "I actually came for medicine, we got talking that way."

"Hm…" Dr. Russell's eyes scanned up and down Quinn's body, "You're not wearing a dress."

"…No I'm not."

"You speak different, also…"

"I-I suppose I do."

Dr. Russell turned back to his cauldron and continued to stir, "Why are you here?" Effectively dropping the subject. Quinn took a long breath with relief.

"Well…I don't mean to intrude, but I've noticed from both Elizabeth and Samuel that they're under a lot of stress without you there."

"I haven't gone anywhere," He replied, honestly sounding like he didn't care.

Quinn bit her bottom lip angrily, "What I mean, is they never see you. They miss you, and with little Mary…"

"What right do you have to comment on my family or myself?" Dr. Russell turned toward the blonde angrily.

Quinn's brow dropped, "Well when your son is sneaking out on a night because he's sick of his mother shouting at him because she's stressed out that her husband isn't even bothering to help raise a newborn baby, I think I have the right to comment."

The scientist stared, and continued to stare. Quinn felt her confident diminish when he sneered, "Get out of my house."

"No!" Quinn sighed, "Look, I'm not trying to be offensive, but your son is really upset. Elizabeth is so exhausted she looks ill!"

"…She does?" Dr. Russell asked through a weirdly quiet voice from his normal booming voice.

Quinn nodded, "She's really tired, Dr. Russell. I'm just saying…maybe if you came up a few hours a day? I know you're working on a new project but a few hours wouldn't hurt right? Samuel and Mary would really appreciate seeing their father."

He seemed to think this through, running a hand through his hair, making it stick up in all the wrong places, "Maybe I have been a little preoccupied of late, and I can't really do anything at the moment without the final ingredient."

"Ingredient?"

"You wouldn't understand, young lady." He chuckled lightly.

"Try me," She challenged him, and enjoyed the way his eyebrows shot up in shock, before a genuine smile graced his lips.

"Really, young lady, you wouldn't understand anything I said." He sighed, "How did you know I was working on a new project? I assume both Elizabeth and my son Samuel told you this?"

The blonde nodded, "They told me you were really busy. Hey, maybe if I helped you find that final ingredient maybe you could spend more time with them."

"Are you being serious, Miss. Fabray?"

"Never been more serious in my life, sir." Her manners came into play, and it seemed to appease the scientist.

"Well, I'm sure a fresh pair of eyes on the search wouldn't be so much trouble."

Quinn jumped for joy mentally, "Okay…so what am I looking for?"

Dr. Russell stepped away from the cauldron, circled it and began to sift through the paperwork on one of the tables that was pushed up against the wall. He flipped pages, scanned them and scrunched some up that they seemed unimportant, "Ah." He picked up a lone piece of paper and stepped toward Quinn to hand it to her.

The paper was a scramble of different words, and what looked like old age algebra that she only vaguely understood. But in the centre of the page was a hand drawn, almost artistically done stone. It was small, around half the size of her palm and part of her wondered why it was so important to Dr. Russell.

"That stone is called the Philosopher's Stone - it is a key ingredient when used in Alchemy."

"Alchemy? You're an alchemist?"

"I'm not just a doctor, no. I'm a doctor of science. Alchemy is my first true love," Dr. Russell sighed, seemingly dragging his feet back to the cauldron to continue stirring, "It seems my new project had taken precedent over my family though. So if you can…find that stone and bring it to me at once," He glanced at Quinn, "Even if I could just have part of the stone…all my years of work will have paid off."

The blonde nodded, "So you just need the stone. Okay. Do you mind if I take this?" She asked, wafting the paper in front of her face.

"Of course, take it, but please return it. The stone is almost a blood red, incredibly rare. You'll know once you see it."

"Okay, sure. Well, when I find it, I'll bring it here as soon as possible."

"_If_ you find it, Miss. Fabray. I've searched for many years for that stone, and I haven't managed to find it yet."

"I have a lot of resources under my belt."

The internet for one, she was sure Google had something on the Philosopher's stone, or where people believed it to be (if it existed). It seemed simply enough. That and she had the PAD at her disposal, and now that Homunculus had given her the chance to travel at will, she could pick the stone up in no time.

But something Homunculus said still haunted her - he had told her to keep an eye out for a stone. He didn't tell her if it was the Philosopher's stone directly, but something niggled away at the blonde to tell her that the two were connected.

"Then I hope you have luck on your side - the stone is very allusive."

"I'll find it," She said with a determination she didn't know she had. She folded the paper neatly and put it in her back pocket to keep it safe, "You have my word."

Dr. Russell chuckled silently to himself, nodding as he looked into his cauldron, "Good luck."

* * *

><p>"You spoke to my father?" Samuel asked as soon as she opened the basement door, she jumped back, and narrowly avoided falling down the stairs.<p>

"Yeah," Quinn nodded, walking through into the house and shutting the basement door behind her. Samuel had his book clutched to his chest, eyes wide as he looked up at the blonde, "He said he just needs to find one more thing for his project and then he'll be free to spend time with you guys."

"What thing? Do we have it here?"

Quinn shook her head, "I don't think so. I'm going to help him track it down." She patted Samuel gently on the head, "Trust me, I'll find it and give it to your father."

The little boy nodded, then glanced down to the book against his chest. He seemed to think for a moment before slowly, his arm reached out, hand clutching the book, "Take this."

She took the book, running the pad of her thumb over the cover, "This is a book on alchemy."

"Yes, I took it from my father's room."

"Why are you reading it?" She flipped it open, leisurely flipping through the pages, taking in the different words and diagrams that decorated the thin pages, "Interested in doing what your dad does?"

"I don't know…I'm kind of interested, but not really."

Quinn chuckled, "You're in two minds at the moment?"

Samuel nodded, "Mother says I'm still too young to understand what my father does, and that I'm too young to decide what I want to be when I grow up."

"You're never too young to dream." Quinn paused, her voice low and thoughtful as she continued, "That's what my sister always used to say to me…"

The young boy continued to look up at the blonde, half confused about why she was suddenly staring into space.

Her older sister, Hailey, always seemed to know the right things to say, even when she was younger. Quinn has grown up around her sister's wisdom, until the day she left for college and she never heard from her again. She'd asked her dad many times why Hailey never came home for Christmas, or send her a card on her birthday, no phone calls to just catch up - but he just said she was busy and demand his youngest daughter leave it at that.

She hadn't spoken to Hailey in almost three years, and it was beginning to hurt as the days went on. Her sister's room, still untouched at the back of the house, was almost like a shrine to the girl that no longer visited. Old yearbooks showed the life that Hailey had at McKinley, the life that Quinn was slowly breaking away from. Head Cheerleader, gone. Quarterback boyfriend, didn't matter when you had a growing attraction to a _girl_ you thought you hated. The popularity, while still there, didn't mean to the world to her anymore.

Hailey was the queen bee at school, and wasn't a bitch about it either. From the stories Hailey told her about McKinley, it was a nicer place to have been when she was there. She spoke to everyone - didn't just stick to one circle of friends - she was in drama club, worked on the school newspaper all while maintaining a 4.0 GPA, cheerleading and the quarterback boyfriend. It seemed as if she had the perfect life - until she disappeared off to college and was never seen or heard from again.

"Quinn? Miss. Quinn?" She felt the tugging at her shirt and she jumped from her thoughts, "Are you okay?"

"Oh," Quinn nodded slowly, "Yeah…just thinking. Anyway, I should be off, I need to meet a friend."

Samuel nodded, and watched with slightly narrowed eyes as she left, closing the door gently behind her with a click. Then he shrugged, picked his nose and walked off.

"You said three hours moron, it's been almost four." Santana mumbled from her spot outside the manor house gates. She was back to wearing her cheerleading costume, which looked like it was in pristine condition, "I'm not going back to 2011 wearing a curtain, Q."

Quinn nodded and pulled out the PAD, "Sorry I was late anyway, I had a little look around the town. You haven't seen a red stone while you've been here, have you?

"I care about no stone unless it's rockin' on my finger. Now can I please leave? I want a fucking shower."

Quinn just sighed - some things would never change.

* * *

><p>"I never thought I'd say this," Santana mumbled through a sigh, "I missed this damn place."<p>

They were stood in front of the old manor house that had been converted into one of Lima's many churches. Quinn couldn't believe she hadn't noticed it before.

"It's always good to be back." Quinn replied, stuffing the PAD back in her pocket, "So what are you gonna do first?"

"First, shower - I smell of both putried meat and old man, I want it gone." Now that she'd mentioned it, the smell was a little…over bearing. "Then I'm having serious words with mama about the fact she didn't even notice I was gone."

"What is up with you two anyway? I thought you and your mom were close."

Santana scoffed, scuffing the toe of her sneaker against the sidewalk, "She freaked when I told her something. We've been avoiding each other since."

"What did you tell-,"

"It's none of your fuckin' business, okay?" Santana snapped, then guilty watched Quinn step back in reflex, "Sorry…I told her…" She sighed and lowered her voice slightly, "That I was into girls."

"And she didn't take it well…?"

Santana just shook her head, "She started crying, telling me what she'd done to deserve it, and then just walked out of the room. We hadn't talked for two weeks until that night at Breadstix, it doesn't surprise me she didn't notice that I wasn't there."

"Your mom loves you, no matter what, S. She thinks the world of you."

"Or she did until she found out I liked pussy then couldn't wait to drop me."

Quinn was lucky, she had a mother that actually understood - and even though she hadn't directly come out to her mother, she knew that if she did, her mother would slowly come around to the idea. Quinn knew that Maria Lopez was always shocked when information hit her from no where, and tended to want to regroup before she tackled a subject she had no idea about. Santana would have been cold, forcing her mother further away from her. In a way, it was both of their faults that it'd gone this far.

"Just sit down with your mom, don't be arrogant, just sit and talk. Let her voice her thoughts, then voice yours. It's the easiest way."

Santana scoffed, "Okay, _Oprah_."

The blonde smirked to herself and patted Santana on the back, "C'mon, you smell like crap. I think my eyes might melt if I have to bare it any longer."

"Oh go fuck yourself." Then walked in silence, "You still need to tell me about Berry."

What was to tell about Rachel Berry? That somehow, over the last few weeks, the feelings that she thought she'd locked away were coming to the surface. Rachel wasn't the little girl that shared her gold stickers with anymore, she was a grown woman, a woman that she'd treat so horribly over the years through fear and rejection. She knew Rachel felt something…the longing looks, the kiss to the cheek, the whispered plea to take care; something was going on between them, but she didn't know how to breach the subject without making herself sound like a total nonce.

"Stop stalling, Blondie. Speak."

Quinn took a long breath, staring down at her feet as she continued to walk, "You'll freak out."

"If my mom is any indication - maybe. But go on."

"I've been spending more time with Rachel. Her and Finn aren't dating anymore, they split up for some reason but they seem to still be friends. Good friends…" Quinn growled gently, "We've been spending a lot more time with one another…I took her to the opening of Funny Girl on Broadway, we talked, I told her about my situation. That's about it."

"Okay, so I'm slightly disgusted you've been spending time with Man Hands, but why would I freak out over it? It's not like you're secretly getting your lovin' on with the hobbit."

Santana's chuckle slowly died, as did her steps, as she watched Quinn slowly continued to walk, head bowed, blonde hair covering flushed cheeks.

"You've been fucking the _Hobbit_?" The Latina shrieked loudly.

Quinn's head snapped up, and quickly she turned and slapped her hand over her friend's mouth, "Will you shut up? I have not…_fucked_…Rachel. We haven't even kissed, we've barely hugged, alright? So you're gonna be quiet and I'm gonna let go of your mouth now, okay?"

Santana nodded.

Slowly, Quinn's hand lowered and after watching Santana for several moments, she turned and continued to walk.

"But you wouldn't mind letting her dive into your bush, eh?"

She narrowly avoided the slap.

* * *

><p>"Call her," Quinn told Santana as she watched the Latina open her front door, "When you've sorted things out with your mom. She's next on your list."<p>

"Since when do you have the right on giving me dating advice when your latest vice seems to be a midget that speaks way too much?" The Latina asked jokingly, "I'm still freaked out, and it's going to be hard to get used to…but I guess…it's fine with me."

"Thanks, S."

"But I still get to call her Berry. Fine, I can't call her Man Hands or RuPaul 'cos she's your girl all of a sudden, but I draw the line at Berry."

"Fine, Berry is fine." Quinn replied, still blushing that Santana had referred to the diva as her girl.

"Hm," Santana shook her head, "I'm away for a week and the whole world gets turned upside down. You're suddenly a lesbian, Berry isn't pining over Finn…have I entered the Twilight Zone? Because this is the last thing I expected."

Quinn chuckled, "Believe me, I thought it wouldn't happen either."

"Then do yourself a favour," The Latina walked into her house, "Get laid, 'cos the sexual frustration that's vibing off of you right now, is enough to put a hole in the O Zone." And then the door shut.

The blonde stood there, jaw opened slightly, eyes wide as she stared at the closed door. Then slowly, she turned, and mumbled, "Is it that obvious…?"


	11. Chapter 10

**Shadow of Fate - Chapter 10**

The first thing she did was go on the internet to track down the allusive Philosopher's stone. Well, that's what she intended until her mother stopped her at the door and demand she sit down to dinner. It was awkward, to say the least, her mother kept glancing up and down at her, then the narrowing her eyes, then biting the corner of her bottom lip - a trait the youngest Fabray had picked up from her mother, by the looks of it.

Quinn stared into the salad on her plate, suddenly finding a piece of diced cucumber completely fascinating.

"So…"

The younger woman cringed slightly, spearing a piece of the cucumber on her fork. Why were cucumber's green anyway?

"What have you been doing with yourself?"

Why was cucumber a vegetable? It was like…90% water, wasn't it? Quinn didn't hesitate to stuff it and several large pieces of iceberg lettuce into her mouth afterward to try and hold off answering her mother.

"Really, Quinn…I thought I taught you more manners than to stuff your mouth."

Quinn slowly chewed, then swallowed, wiped her mouth on a napkin and leaned back in her seat, "Sorry, mom."

Judy nodded slowly, still glancing up and down at her daughter, before she turned her attention to the grilled chicken on her plate. With a painful elegance that had been memorized from her time with Russell, she cut the chicken and popped a small piece into her mouth.

"Well," She glanced up momentarily when her daughter opened her mouth, "I guess I've just been busy with school. Lots of homework…you know…"

"Hm," The older Fabray swallowed and took a sip of her water, before putting it back down and teasing the rim of the glass with her index finger, "Why did you quit the Cheerio's, Quinn?"

"What?" She stared at her mother's hand, hoping to block out the long stare that she was giving her. It was unnerving, and suddenly she felt like squirming in her seat, or running from the damn house.

"You told me it was to ease the pressure from you. You were lying to me."

Quinn's eyes snapped up.

"I know when my daughter is lying, Quinn. How do you think I found out you were pregnant?"

The blonde cringed at the mention of her pregnancy, but sat straighter in her seat as she regarded her mother.

"Look, I left because it was pressuring me. I was sick of Coach always giving me grief, and…" She sighed gently, glancing back down to her plate, "I didn't like the person it had made me become."

"Person?" She heard her mother ask softly.

"I was a _bitch_," She muttered through a sigh, "A cold, heartless bitch."

"Quinn!"

"What?" Quinn slammed down her fork, making it clatter noisily against her plate, "I was, mom. I can't deny it, no one can. I was a bitch, hell…maybe I still am…but I'm trying. Cheerio's was just making me become some warped person that even _I_ didn't understand. I had to leave, that's all."

Silence filled the dining room as they sat in silence, eventually, Judy watched as Quinn slowly grabbed her knife and fork and began eating once more. It was true that Judy didn't understand this new Quinn, especially after everything they'd been through. Quinn was so different to who she was when she first started High School - from home-grown teenage girl, to HBIC, Cheerleading Captain, most popular girl in school, back to home-grown teenage girl, with nothing but the urge to get on with her life.

"If you have something to say mom, just say it…" Quinn whispered before shoving a piece of chicken in her mouth.

Judy swallowed her nerves, and stared at Quinn, "I know you're gay."

The spray of chewed chicken was spectacular.

"Oh sh-," Quinn stood up, napkin in hand, "Damn, I'm sorry." Quickly, she dabbed at her mother's face, cringing at the bits of chicken that fell off the older woman's chin and onto her lap, "Uh…I'll just," She glanced over her shoulder, seeing the front door in her sights. Quickly, she turned and headed to the door.

"Lucy Quinn Fabray."

The younger Fabray stopped dead in her tracks, head down, "I hate it when you call me that."

"It got you to stop, didn't it?" Judy watched as her daughter slowly turned, staring down at her with tears shining in her eyes. She hated bringing it up too, especially after the countless meetings with her daughter's ex principal about the tireless bullying, but she knew it was the only way to get through to her. She knew that Quinn inherited the Fabray regime of: If you don't talk about it, it doesn't exist - and she didn't want to live under that rule anymore. It was her husbands, not hers.

"Mom, please…I don't really feel up to talking right now."

"Then answer me one question, and we'll leave it at that." Quinn still looked apprehensive, "I promise."

When Quinn turned to give her mother her full attention, she knew the question that was coming, and hundreds of scenario's swam through her mind. She could run out of the room, or perhaps perform a daring front flip out of the nearest window (No…that was in the living room, behind her mother's seat) Or perhaps, you know, she could just…tell the truth.

"Quinn, are you gay?"

Honestly? "I'm not sure."

"Okay."

And then it all came out, watching as compassion filled her mother's eyes.

"I don't know if I am or not, because I only have feelings for one girl.."

"Okay."

"Do you hate Jews?"

Judy spluttered at the sudden question, "Quinn! No, of course I don't. Your father was the hypocrite, not I."

"Sorry," Quinn mumbled, scratching the back of her neck gently, "It's just…she's…" Slowly, she smiled, gently, down toward the floor, unable to raise her eyes, "She's really different to any other girl."

"Okay."

"I mean sure, she speaks like she's in the middle of a monologue, sometimes she might dress a little weirdly, and maybe, just maybe, sometimes I want to throttle her…" Judy waited as Quinn's eyebrows furrowed, her gaze still on the carpet, "But then I hear her sing, and I feel like I'm in the only one in the room with her. When I talk she actually listens, she makes me promise her that I'll be okay…she kisses me like she means it," Her hand rose and gently, she brushed her fingertips against her cheek, "She might feel the same way, but I can't be sure."

"Okay."

Quinn's eyes snapped up, "Okay? That's all you have to say?"

Judy leaned back in her seat, picking the last remnant of chicken out of her blonde hair, "I assumed you wanted to talk with little interruptions," The older woman sighed, "I'll admit, I'm a little…shocked at your change of lifestyle, and although you might not be gay, and just have feelings for this one girl, it's going to take a while to adjust."

"Yeah…" Quinn whispered, eyes trailing back down to the carpet.

"I won't throw you out onto the street like your father did. I can't control every aspect of your life - you're 17 now, Quinn, more than old enough to take care of yourself without me looming over your shoulder. I'll always love you, it'll just take me a while to get used to this…_change_."

"So…you're not gonna freak out? Or make me go to church and ask for forgiveness for my sinful thoughts?"

Judy's right eyebrow twitched, "God help me, your father was a bastard for making you think that everything was wrong if it wasn't okayed by him."

"Mom!"

"What? He was." Judy smirked before standing and grabbed both the plates on the table, "Such a bastard." She chuckled to herself as she walked into the kitchen.

Quinn stood there, eyes wide as she watched her mother's retreating back. What a day. Her first chaste kiss from Rachel, she got Santana back, came out to her mother and listened as said mother called her own husband (soon to be ex) a bastard.

"Good day," The blonde chuckled, heading toward her bedroom.

* * *

><p><em>The philosopher's stone is a legendary substance, allegedly capable of turning inexpensive metals into gold. It was sometimes believed to be an elixir of life, useful for rejuvenation and possibly for achieving immortality.<em>

_Sought by Alchemists for its supposed ability to transform base metals into precious ones, especially gold and silver. Alchemists also believed that an elixir of life could be derived from it. Inasmuch as Alchemy was concerned with the perfection of the human soul, the Philosopher's stone was thought to cure illnesses, prolong life, and bring about spiritual revitalization._

"Huh," Quinn mumbled, fiddling with the cross around her neck with one hand as her other continued to click onto different tabs she'd opened from her rather small search on Google. The internet was full of information on the Philosopher's stone, but not one site had actually offered her a location on the damn thing. "Damn," She shut down the Alchemy tabs and sighed, letting her head drop back onto the top of her computer chair.

Everything the internet told her said that it was generally used in Alchemy - but who practised Alchemy nowadays? And even so, was the Philosopher's stone real? Everything she had read said 'was thought to' meaning there was no definite proof. Was it just a hoax? A stone that years of rumours had made true?

A light pop made her eyes snap open, and glancing down at her laptop, she realized she'd left Facebook open. "Ah." Stretching her right arm out, she clicked down on the laptop pad and brought up Facebook chat.

**Rachel Barbra Berry**

_Hello, Quinn. I see you made it back to 2011 safely?_

"Crap." She glanced over both her shoulders, then down at the keyboard, trying to think of something original to say.

**Quinn Fabray**

_Yeah, with a little help from a DeLorean and a Police Box._

**Rachel Barbra Berry**

_Quinn, are you feel quite alright? Why did you encounter a 1980's sports car and a police box in 1556?_

Quinn cringed, "Oh kill me now. I'm making nerd jokes with Rachel Berry…" She leaned forward, hunching over the laptop as she jabbed her index finger down hard on each individual letter.

**Quinn Fabray**

_Nothing, it doesn't matter. Forget I said anything._

**Rachel Barbra Berry**

_You have me intrigued. Tell me!_

"Ah, dammit."

**Quinn Fabray**

_Y'know, Back to the Future? Doctor Who? Time travel…I do it…y'know?_

**Quinn Fabray**

_Seriously, forget I said anything, it was a bad joke that didn't quite pull off._

**Rachel Barbra Berry**

_Who would have thought that Quinn Fabray was a closet dork? ;]_

Quinn pressed her nose up against the laptop screen; a wink…that was good, right? When people winked it meant they were flirting, or perhaps taking the piss, but either way, Rachel Berry winking, albeit through the internet, was pretty awesome.

**Quinn Fabray**

_Shhh, don't tell anyone ;)_

Two could play at this game. The response came almost immediately.

**Rachel Barbra Berry**

_Your secret is safe with me, Quinn =D Seriously though, and be honest this time, how was it?_

**Quinn Fabray**

_It was fine, I got hurt when I first arrived there, but after that it was smooth sailing._

Again, the response was immediate.

**Rachel Barbra Berry**

_WHAT? What happened? Tell me everything, Quinn Fabray!_

"Jesus…" Quinn whispered, involuntarily leaning back from the screen - who used that many exclamation marks, really?

**Rachel Barbra Berry**

_I will not leave this conversation until you have told me, Quinn!_

**Rachel Barbra Berry**

_Still waiting, Quinn._

**Rachel Barbra Berry**

_I'll tell everyone you're a nerd if you don't respond ASAP!_

**Quinn Fabray**

_Berry, relax, I was just getting a drink of water._

It was a full on lie, but Rachel wouldn't really know if she was getting a drink or not - unless somehow Rachel was camped outside on her laptop, hiding in a bush somewhere - which totally crept her the hell out.

**Rachel Barbra Berry**

_Continue then, after your drink of water though. Drinking water is very important Quinn, especially for your vocal chords. I never told you how I think you've gotten better this year - you're less sharp, obviously the Glee Clubs many competitions has helped you find your voice._

**Quinn Fabray**

_I, uh…thanks._

**Rachel Barbra Berry**

_You're quite welcome, Quinn! =] As I was saying, continue._

**Quinn Fabray**

_Well, someone took a bat or something to my head when I fell out of the time tunnel. I was killed, and then I was brought back, end of._

Okay, maybe 'end of' was probably the wrong thing to say to a 5'2" diva.

**Rachel Barbra Berry**

_End of? End of? Quinn! You were killed! How can you be so calm about this?_

"Ah, crap."

**Quinn Fabray**

_I can't die remember? Well, I can…I just get brought back. Look, just relax. I'm fine, I just had a little headache and now it's gone. Okay?_

**Rachel Barbra Berry**

_Hm. Fine, I will take your word for it. Did you find Santana?_

**Quinn Fabray**

_Sure did, and I think I'm on the way to sorting things out between her and B. As long as she doesn't mess it up and say the wrong thing._

**Rachel Barbra Berry**

_This is Santana we're talking about…_

**Quinn Fabray**

_Crap, maybe I should go over with some cue cards for her to read from? Lol_

**Rachel Barbra Berry**

_She'll probably hit you over the head with them._

**Quinn Fabray**

_Ah, true…well anyways…I gotta get going._

**Rachel Barbra Berry**

_Oh, that's quite alright. We'll talk tomorrow, right?_

It was the weekend…

…unless…

**Quinn Fabray**

_You uh…want to talk to me on the weekend?_

**Rachel Barbra Berry**

_I told you we needed to speak about some things, Quinn…_

Quinn sighed, fingers hovering dangerously close to the laptop keys, ready to type that she was too busy with her mom on the weekend to see anyone else. But this was Rachel Berry, and Rachel Berry could smell a lie that huge coming from a mile off.

**Quinn Fabray**

_I guess…we could meet up tomorrow?_

**Rachel Barbra Berry**

_Excellent, the Lima Bean, one o'clock sharp. Oh! And don't be late, Quinn. I do like good time keeping._

**Quinn Fabray**

_I time travel, remember?_

**Rachel Barbra Berry**

_I sure do remember. I'll be sure to look out for you - I'll look out for a skateboard ;]_

_Rachel Barbra Berry is offline._

Quinn smiled and slowly shut the lid on her laptop, before pushing away from her desk and slowly twirling in the seat, hands clasped on the arm rests. With a sigh she rose to her feet, pushed her chair back and decided to take a quick shower.

She was halfway through her shower when she realized Rachel had _totally_ made a Back to the Future reference.

* * *

><p>So she was freaking out - although her meeting with Rachel wasn't until one, she'd been up since 8 just pacing the floor of her bedroom. She didn't know what to wear; half of the stuff in her closet didn't seem appealing. Of course, she had clothes that she generally wore on date, but this wasn't a date - it was just a coffee with a friend who she seriously wanted to-,<p>

"Quinnie, are you down there?"

"Yeah, mom!" She shouted back up the stairs, hoping that the blush on her cheeks would die down before her mom reached the bottom step.

"What're you doing? I've been hearing you moving around for hours." Judy paused and took in her daughter who only wore McKinley High red sweatpants and a bra. "You slept like that?"

"Huh?" Quinn glanced down and rolled her eyes, "No mother, I'm trying to find something to wear but I can't find anything."

Judy looked into her daughter's closet and chuckled, "You have enough clothes, Quinn."

"I know but…I need something that'll make me look like I'm making an effort, but not too much of an effort."

"This sounds like a date," Judy chimed in gently, nudging her daughter gently with her elbow, "With this girl?"

"Yeah," The younger Fabray quickly shook her head, "Wait, no…it's not a date!"

Judy chuckled and headed toward the basement stairs, "Of course, Quinn. Have you given it any thought into how she's feeling right now? She's probably doing the exact same thing as you."

Quinn watched as her mother disappeared back up the stairs, along with a chuckle that made Quinn want to dive back into bed and not get up for the rest of her life.

"Okay, I can do this. I've dressed myself plenty of times before, this is no different."

* * *

><p>An hour later, she was sat amongst a pile of clothes that came up to mid stomach - her closet completely bare except for a few hangers that had managed to hold on as she went on her rampage.<p>

"Okay, so it's different."

She pulled a cardigan that had somehow draped itself on her head and threw it into the back of the closet. It was a cardigan that she'd vastly over worn when she was pregnant with Beth - so no.

"Damn sis, where's the fire?" Quinn's head snapped up, and slowly she turned her head to her bedroom door. There stood Hailey Fabray on the last step, smirk on her face, dark blonde hair pulled up into a loose ponytail, hazel eyes shining as she took in her younger sister's predicament.

"Hailey…?"

"Yup," Hailey smiled and walked into the room, shutting the door behind her, "Not gonna give your big sis a hug, Q?"

Quinn burst out laughing, jumped to her feet and launched herself into Hailey's arms. "Why…? How? When…?"

Hailey chuckled, "I just got in from LA. I'm jet lagged like a bitch, but I managed to stay awake long enough to come here." The older sister smiled and ruffled Quinn's hair, "Why I'm here? I finally heard through the grapevine that mom kicked dad out, so I thought I'd come and see for myself."

"Grapevine? Who did you hear from?"

"Mom told dad, dad told Uncle Bruce, Uncle Bruce told our cousin Jess, Jess told Aunt Carol who told me."

"Ah." Quinn paused, "LA?"

Hailey smirked, "Yup, I travelled to LA for college and made my life there."

"But…why did you go to LA all of a sudden? Why did you just leave?" Quinn asked, pulling away from her sister's arm and walking back to the dejected pile of clothes on her floor. She collapsed into the heap and began sorting through it, refusing to let her older sister see the hurt in her eyes.

Hailey noticed how Quinn pulled herself away and sighed, "Remember Tim Oakley?"

"Your boyfriend, yeah."

"Yeah, well dad said to me either I dump him because of some of Tim's_ habits_ or I'm out of the house. So I left without graduating High School and I chose Tim."

"You chose a guy over your family?" Quinn asked angrily, eyes snapping to Hailey's.

"I didn't choose a guy over my family, Q. I chose the guy I was in love with - my family turned its back on me." Hailey glanced to Quinn's bedside table and fiddled with the cross necklace that sat there, "Mom didn't even bother trying to stick up for me, dad just put his foot down - you were still too young to understand what was really going on. So I just left."

"And now? Why the change of heart? Dad's been gone for almost a year."

"Truthfully?" Hailey watched as Quinn nodded, "I was terrified; scared that my mom would take one look at me and slam the door in my face."

"But she didn't."

"No…she hugged me _then_ slammed the door in my face."

Quinn's eyebrow rose slowly, "Why did I hear none of this?"

"Hello…Mount. Closet."

The blonde rolled her eyes and glanced back down to her clothes quickly before watching her sister take a seat on the edge of her bed, "Is mom okay now?"

"She's fine, we talked for a little bit, then she sent me down here." Hailey glanced around the room again, hazel eyes taking in every bit of the basement bedroom, "I wanted this room as my bedroom, the baby of the family always gets everything." She said through a chuckle.

Quinn cringed, "I only moved down here after dad left." She paused, "Did you hear about…?"

"Your pregnancy? Yup."

"Who from?"

Hailey smiled openly, "Dad told Uncle Rod, Uncle Rod told Aunt Silvia, Cousin Jacob overheard Aunt Silvia talking about it on the phone, so Jacob told his sister Emily who told Uncle Bruce, who told me."

"Wow, so everyone knew my business." Quinn replied flippantly.

"Oh please, Q, you were a 16 year old pregnant teenager. Everyone in the family was shocked when they found out that Russell Fabray's second daughter had moved out too. His reputation took a beating."

"I could care less about his reputation…"

"Yup, me either." Hailey sighed and slid of the edge of the bed, slowly crawling toward her baby sister, "Need help?"

"With what?" Quinn asked over her shoulder, genuinely confused.

"This? Obviously you have a hot date to get ready for." Hailey smirked at Quinn's blush, "Who's the lucky fella?"

Quinn laughed, "Oh, you don't want to know."

"Hm…do tell."

* * *

><p>All in all, Hailey's visit, while unexpected, lifted a weight off of Quinn's shoulders that she didn't know she had. Hailey listened to every word she said, hugged her when she cried and told her the most important thing that meant that everything would be okay - I still love you no matter what.<p>

Hailey was great that way, she lived an alternative lifestyle for three years while at college after her break-up with high school sweetheart Tim (it turned out his was a giant asshole and Hailey dumped his ass when she found out he was stealing money to feed his now major drug habit) so she wasn't really shocked when Quinn told her that she had feelings for a girl.

"Look, it's natural. People have this huge stigma about it because they're terrified of something different in their ultimately boring lives. If you're gay, Q, I'm all for it, hell, I may love you more for it. Just because I did the nasty with a girl, realized it wasn't my thing and went back to guys doesn't mean I found it wrong. If this girl is worth it, go for it. You've taken the hardest step - telling mom. Now you just need to admit it to yourself, and to Rachel."

It only took a minute to say, but Quinn felt those words push something inside her. The words that her father had told her were pushed away - being gay wasn't wrong, being a homophobe was wrong, someone who wasn't open to new ideals because they thought it was disgusting, was wrong. Russell Fabray was a scared man, seeing the alternate lifestyle grow in Lima, and Quinn knew she'd be a part of that lifestyle.

Well…If Rachel wanted her that is.

"How do I look?" Quinn asked, turning to face her older sister who laid on the bed, flipping through a photography magazine.

"Like a girl, I thought you were going all fem/butch?"

"Fem/butch?" Quinn asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, were you act like a complete girl but dress sorta boyish."

"Fem/butch?"

"It's a term I just made up, do you like it?"

"Totally," Quinn replied through a laugh, "So?"

Hailey took in the vintage sky blue summer dress that Quinn was wearing, along with thick socks and heels that she could have sworn belonged to her at one point. She'd picked them up at a charity shop when she was still in high school, the best $3 she ever spent. Then she glanced down at herself, ratty jeans, dirty sneakers and a t-shirt and hoodie combination.

"No fair, I'm dressed for flying. We need to do this again when I'm looking shagtacular."

Quinn's jaw dropped.

"What? Oh come on, Q. I'm twenty years old, I can swear."

The young sister shook her head gently, "You sure have changed, H."

"Of course," Hailey grinned, jumping up from the bed, "Your date is at one, right?"

"It's not a date," Quinn groaned, hoping the blush wasn't too bright on her cheeks and neck.

"Yeah and I'm Ellen Degeneres." The older Fabray sister grabbed her younger sister's hand and tugged, "C'mon, I'll give you a lift, I have an awesome rental car I wanna test out some more."

* * *

><p>"Hailey, we have to go back," Quinn finally piped up halfway to Lima Bean.<p>

"What? Why?"

"I forgot something." The PAD, she'd left the PAD by her laptop. Shit.

"Can't you just get it later?"

"No, I can't."

"Is it that important?"

"Yes."

With a sigh, Hailey nodded and made to turn the car.

* * *

><p>"Shit, I'm late."<p>

Hailey chuckled from the driver's seat as her sister all but dived in to the passenger's seat, "She's not going to kill you if you're late."

Quinn's arm stopped as she was pulling the car door closed, and with a quick glance at her sister, she continued until the door was slammed shut, "You don't know Rachel Berry."

"She sounds awesome, I need to meet her." She started the car, chuckling to herself when Quinn spluttered beside her, "I can trade war stories with her."

"Ruin this for me and I'll end you."

"Oh…" Hailey tried to repress the smirk, "But I thought it wasn't a date, Q?" She glanced at her sister quickly before returning her attention back to the road, "That's what you said right? That it wasn't a date?"

"You're infuriating."

"You wouldn't have me any other way, sis." Hailey replied with a wink.

* * *

><p>She'd forgotten that Hailey drove like a woman on a mission, and they both made to Lima Bean just in time to see Rachel's coupe pull into a parking bay.<p>

"Is this her?" Hailey asked as she switched off the engine, "Is she in the car?"

"Where else would she be?" Quinn asked, staring at her sister with a confused stare.

Hailey shrugged, leaned over Quinn to look through her window and waited, "Is she gonna leave the car or wha-, oh there she is." The car door opened and both Hailey and Quinn watched as Rachel emerged from her car.

Quinn's jaw hit her lap as she set eyes on the _normal_ clothes that Rachel was wearing. A lovely pair of form fitting black jeans, heels and a white and blue chequered shirt.

"Wow…" Hailey whistled, "Lumberjack lesbian."

Quinn hit her sister's arm as hard as she could without _actually_ hurting her hand.

"What? You have good taste…" Hailey's eyes glazed over, "Really good taste."

"You're straight, remember?"

"In LA I am…" Hailey mumbled through a smirk, then slowly, her eyes tracked to Quinn's almost killer glare, "I'm kidding! She's your girl, jeez!"

"She's not my girl…" Quinn whispered, finally turning her attention back to Rachel who's straight hair blew in the wind as she all but power walked toward the café.

"Not yet, at least."

Quinn smiled.

* * *

><p>"Hey," Quinn whispered, breathless as she walked up to Rachel's table. The diva was already sat there, nursing a cup of coffee in both hands, as she looked up at Quinn, "Sorry I'm a little late, I forgot something at home and had to go back."<p>

"You know how I feel about tardiness, Quinn." Rachel replied as she raised her cup and sipped from it, her lips stayed close to the mug as she regarded the blonde, "Go back in time and fix it."

Quinn spluttered, only just getting comfortable in her seat, "Are…you being serious? Because I'll do it…"

Rachel giggled, lowering her cup and placing it back onto the table, "You're so easy to mess around with, Quinn. Who knew?"

The blonde chuckled, fiddling with her hands that fidgeted on her lap, "Uh, y-yeah…I guess…"

Rachel's eyebrow rose, but she said nothing.

"I'll uh…go get a coffee and we can t-talk, okay?"

Rachel just nodded, the hint of a smile on her lips as she watched Quinn stand up and power walk toward the counter. She hadn't noticed the girl stuttered before, and honestly, it was adorable - was this girl trying to kill her? She took in Quinn's appearance as she ordered her coffee, she looked really nice, but the diva preferred to see the blonde in jeans, something about the way they hugged her ass…

"Rachel?" Rachel blinked and shook her head, locking eyes with Quinn. "You okay?" She was clutching her coffee already - how long had she zoned out for?

"Oh, yes I'm fine." Rachel gave her a wide grin, "Just wondering where your skateboard is, McFly."

Quinn stared, then chuckled as she sat down, "That's the second time you've fed me a Back to the Future reference."

"I have to feet your inner dork, Quinn. Who knows what will happen, otherwise?" And by God she winked. She _winked_. Not one of those silly cyber winks, but a proper wink and it had Quinn floored.

"O-Oh, well I-I'm not that m-much of a dork."

Rachel smiled gently, taking a sip of her coffee, "I never knew you had a stutter."

Quinn had the god grace to blush, "We've never really talked much…"

"Yes, that's suddenly changed over a few weeks hasn't it?"

"Yeah I suppose it has. That's a good thing, by the way."

"I was going to say the same thing," Rachel replied, smiling gently at Quinn, watching the blonde as she took a long gulp of her still scalding coffee, "Doesn't that hurt your mouth?"

Quinn's eyebrow flicked up briefly, "No, I can only drink coffee scalding hot. I don't know why it doesn't hurt my tongue though," She chuckled, taking a quick sip.

"You're a dork and made of asbestos, interesting."

Quinn burst out laughing, and Rachel took in the complete look of joy on Quinn's face as she laughed. It was beautiful, and the blonde truly had a lovely laugh - the way it made Rachel shiver all over had nothing to do with it.

"Anyway," Rachel said at Quinn finally began to settle down, "We need to talk."

"…W-what about?"

Rachel cupped her chin in her hand, leaning forward, lowering her voice, "You know you only stutter when you're nervous."

"O-oh…?" And Rachel wasn't stupid, she watched Quinn as her hazel eyes dashed from her eyes to her lips and back again. "W-why do you say that?"

"Call it instinct," Rachel whispered before slowly leaning back again, grabbing her mug, "But we need to talk about what is happening between us, Quinn." She stated like she was reading from a book. It was a bit unnerving, and Quinn took to playing with the mug in her hands as she thought through what to say.

"Uh…"

"Uh? That's all you have to say? You're much more eloquent via Facebook, shall we both go home and sit on our laptops?"

"I-I'm sorry…I didn't mean-,"

"Oh, Quinn…I was just kidding with you," She quickly reached out, her hand coming to rest on Quinn's. It was warm, and her hand felt tingly, and when Quinn locked eyes with her, she squeezed gently before begrudgingly pulling her hand away, "So go on, McFly. Spill."

Quinn rubbed her hand gently, barely touching the skin that still buzzed from Quinn's touch. "Is that my nickname now…?"

"If you want it to be," Rachel replied playfully over the rim of her mug, eyes locked with Quinn as she sipped her coffee.

Quinn scoffed out a laugh, "Right, well…where do we start?"

"Maybe when our feelings," She drifted off, waved her free hand theatrically in the air, "So cliché but 'grew'."

"Really?" Rachel nodded, "A few weeks ago, when this whole…ordeal…started." She didn't know what to call it, and she wasn't about to say 'when I started getting murdered everyday' in the middle of a coffee shop.

Rachel's smile fell, "Oh…" Then she went quiet and stared down into her coffee mug. Quinn glanced around, wondering if someone had walked in that the diva didn't want to see, but it dawned on her eventually that she'd said something catastrophically wrong.

"A-are you okay…?"

"Oh, fine…just me and my cliché fairytales…" Rachel waved her hand, "But go on."

"No, tell me what's wrong," Quinn leaned forward, forearms on the table as she leaned closer, "I want us to be honest with each other, alright? I tell you everything, you tell me everything."

"Well, I thought it would be one of those 'I've liked you since the first day I saw you' moments." Rachel chuckled ruefully, "I watch one too many musicals and romance movies, I suppose."

"Oh…sorry that-,"

"No, don't apologize." Her hand found Quinn's again, "What matters is that you do have those feelings, it doesn't matter when they started."

Quinn nodded, hesitantly turning her hand, watching Rachel watch her with a smile, "Go ahead," The brunette whispered gently, so quietly that Quinn had to strain to hear. So Quinn turned her hand, and clasped the small, non-mannish hand in hers, thumb running slowly and gently over the knuckles.

It was so damn perfect, just a simple touch, a fleeting feeling of two hands clasped together - it made her want to cry.

"So…" Quinn smiled gently, "What about you?"

Rachel blushed, glancing down at their clasped hands, and she mumbled something under her breath. Quinn asked her to repeat herself, which was shocking, because Rachel Berry was _never_ quiet. Rachel huffed, "Since the day you transferred to our middle school."

Quinn frowned, "But that was years-," Slowly she trailed off, watching Rachel with eager eyes. The brunette had the good grace to blush, gently prying her hand away from Quinn's. The blonde silently mourned the loss of contact, but didn't have the change to complain about it, "All those years…and I treated you like _dirt_."

The brunette shook her head, "It's not your fault, Quinn. You were warped by popularity and the Cheerio's."

"Glad I left the Cheerio's…"

Rachel giggled, "I'm glad to, in a way - but regardless of your attitude toward me, I still felt for you, hence why I never fought back against the remarks, the name calling, the slushies. In a way I wanted to be a target, because if I wasn't, you'd forget I existed."

"I could never forget about you, Rach."

The diva blushed, "You called me, Rach."

"And I plan on calling you it more often in the future," Quinn grinned, then sobered, "I-I m-mean if that's o-okay with you?"

"You bet it is, McFly." She replied with a wink.

* * *

><p>"Quinn, are you vibrating by chance?" Rachel asked from beside Quinn as they left Lima Bean.<p>

"Uh," patting herself down, she felt the telltale signs of vibrating against her palm, "Sorry, phone." She fished it out of her dress pocket, "Crap. Santana."

"You should answer it," Rachel glanced over to her car, "I'll be right over there."

Flipping the phone open, Quinn took a breath and brought it to her ear, "S? What's up?"

"I talked to Britt."

"Ah," Quinn narrowed her eyes, "And? How did it go?"

"She ended up telling me that she wants me to go on this stupid online chat show thing that she does."

"Fondue For Two? Oh yeah, I watch it all the time."

"I love Fondue For Two!" Rachel shouted back from her place on the bonnet of her car. Quinn sent a smirk her way, taking in Rachel as she leaned back on the bonnet, shirt slightly riding up against her abs.

"God damn…" She whispered, only tearing her eyes away when she heard her best friends voice in her ear.

"Do you mind not eye fucking Berry while I'm having a breakdown, please?"

"How did you-,"

"Seriously…where else would you be? And I heard her. Look, seriously, Q - I need help."

"What's there to help with?" Quinn asked, running her hand through her hair, teasing the blonde locks with the tips of her fingers, "She wants you to go on this show, if you love her as much as you say you do. You'd do it. I think you're just being a wuss."

She knew she'd said the wrong thing as soon as the words tumbled from her mouth. Clasping her lips together, she swore to herself mentally.

"Okay, Q, okay." Santana sounded like she was getting annoyed, her voice deepened like she was about to have a smack down, and Quinn braced herself, glancing over to Rachel to make sure the diva was out of earshot, "How about you go on fucking 'Fondue For Two' and declare your damn love for Rachel Manhands Berry and then deal with the aftermath."

"Don't call her that."

"Oh, I hit a nerve?"

"Call her that again and I swear to God I'll send you back to the dark ages. You're just petrified about what other people will think of you - I used to be like that, I know where you're coming from - but there comes a time in your life where you just have to step back and ask yourself 'should I really let other people dictate what I do in my life?'"

"You make it sound so easy, and it's not."

"No, it is. You just can't help but think that your whole world will collapse around you if you end up admitting your love for Brittany." The blonde sighed, glancing at Rachel in the corner of her eye, "You'll lose her if you don't come clean, and next time, you probably won't get her back. You're one of the most popular girls at McKinley, people won't mess around with you if you suddenly come out as gay."

Was it really that simple? Would people just overlook the fact that she held Rachel's hand in the hallway before class, or kissed her goodbye, or if the brunette sat on her lap during Glee? Should she care what people think? She did during her pregnancy and she constantly felt horrible, fat, worthless - being with someone that made you feel special, shouldn't be hidden away like a dirty little secret should it?

But Quinn cared way too much what people thought of her - their opinion of her. They'd think that Rachel was a witch and had cast a weird sort of voodoo on her because their relationship was so sudden. Would they be ridiculed? She didn't know.

"You're always attached to Brittany's side anyway, so what's the difference?"

"It's different with feelings."

It was like talking to a damn wall, she opened her mouth to reply, but suddenly, her phone was ripped from her hand and a dominative diva was stood beside her, Quinn's phone to her ear, "Santana? This is Rachel Berry."

Rachel rolled her eyes, "Of course, of course. Look, I'm only saying this because with Nationals coming up we really can't waste time on Glee Club drama. You're actually a good singer Santana, and we need each and every one of the members for any chance to win in New York. Brittany loves you, everyone in the school knows that. You were miserable when she was with Artie - I noticed the wounded puppy dog looks from across the choir room. You finally have her back, and a chance to be happy. Are you really going to ruin that and your future happiness simply because you're scared of what other people think of you?"

The diva tapped her foot gently on the ground, "Of course, I'll be sure to wear sufficient headwear to avoid concussion." She ended the call, handed the phone back to Quinn, who stood dumbfounded and then waltzed straight back over to her car.

"W-What just happened?" Quinn asked, racing after her.

"I told Santana, she reluctantly agreed," Rachel turned and jumped onto the bonnet of her car, a perfect beaming smile on her face, "And she told me the next time she see's me at school my forehead would become best friends with my locker."

"Ah," Quinn scratched the back of her neck, "Don't worry, she won't touch you."

"Because you'll protect me…?" Rachel asked shyly, looking up at Quinn through her lashes. It shocked Quinn that she hadn't realized how adorable Rachel was on a day to day basis, just a single look could make her melt into a puddle.

"Of course."

The singer beamed and leaned forward, bands braced on the front of the car. Quinn's eyes shot from dark brown eyes to full sensual lips, and she took a large gulp of air when Rachel's nose brushed against hers.

"Did you hear something?" Quinn asked, brow creased in concentration. It was agonizing, pulling away from something so close, but she glanced over both shoulders, "I swear I heard something."

"I didn't hear anything Quinn," And then Rachel's hand was fisted in the front of Quinn's dress and she was being dragged toward the diva, "Nothing at all…"

Rachel's voice was barely a whisper, surprisingly quiet for someone who was usually so loud, and the words almost melted away into the wind before they could be heard, but Quinn just leaned forward,, nose brushing gently against Quinn's. She could feel Rachel's breath against her lips, and it felt so damn good.

"Kiss me," Rachel said, hand fisting tighter in Quinn's dress. The blonde no longer cared that they were out in the open, that she was a Fabray, that she was going to kiss a _girl_ in public. Fuck Russell Fabray and his ideals, it was her life and she could what she damn well pleased with it.

Then she felt it, a brush against her lips but a pressure on her back. Somewhere, in the distance she heard a bang, and then Rachel scream when she fell to the ground.

"Quinn!" Rachel jumped off the car, blood dotting the front of her shirt. She collapsed beside her, cradling the blonde in her arms, "Please help! Please? Somebody!"

She heard people in the distance screaming for an ambulance, and the dull feeling of fingers running through her hair. Her body was on fire, warm and throbbing - she went to cough and all that came up was blood. Rachel cried above her, leaning down to wipe the blood that had seeped from the corner of her lips.

"I-I'll…b-be right ba-ack…pro-m-mise…"

"Please, Quinn…no…"

And Rachel kissed her, and it felt as amazing as it should have done. Her lips couldn't move, she felt so numb, and now so cold. But Rachel's lips were there, so warm and wet with tears, and she felt as if she'd reached salvation. She shuddered in Rachel's arms, whining at Rachel's lips massaged hers.

"Come back to me…please," Was whispered against her lips, and Quinn fought with every ounce of energy she had left just to nod.

Then she was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>"Death must be so beautiful to lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forget life, to be at peace."<strong>

"Oscar Wilde." Quinn mumbled, her hand rubbing the bottom of her back gently, "But death isn't beautiful is it? Especially when re-live it almost every day?"

**"Would you rather die and not come back?"** Homunculus asked from his perch on top of the time tunnel doors, his ankles crossed, fingers drumming out a tune on the stone frame, **"Death in comparison to life is much easier."**

"I can't die." Quinn whispered, trailing off, "Not now…"

**"Because of her."**

The blonde nodded, hand still on her back, "I was shot, right? I knew I heard something."

**"Your killer will take any chance to end your life, Quinn. You must find them and eliminate the source if you wish for this to discontinue."**

"Yeah…" With a sigh she rose to her feet, hands fisted at her side, "She kissed me as I died. She felt my life go from my body. I felt her tears on my face as she begged me to come back. I felt so weak."

**"Do you really think...that it is weakness that yields to temptation? I tell you that there are terrible temptations that it requires strength, strength and courage, to yield to. To stake all one's life on a single moment, to risk everything on one throw, whether the stake be power or pleasure, I care not - there is no weakness in that."**


	12. Chapter 11

**Shadow of Fate - Chapter 11**

It was different this time, and she didn't know why. Her phone was being ripped from her hand, and the familiar speech spilled from Rachel's lips, then the phone was handed back, but this time something was different. It was. The way Rachel looked at her, eyes narrowed, puffy and red - like she'd been crying.

The singer climbed back onto the hood of the car, looking like she was about to burst into tears again, but this time Quinn didn't follow her, she stood stock still, phone clutched tightly in her hand.

"Quinn," Rachel's voice was raw and quiet, almost like she didn't really want to speak but knew that she had to. "Come here." Then she added, almost broken, "Please."

And then Quinn was in her arms, Rachel's hands clutched desperately at the back of her dress, almost pulling her closer into her body. Then she heard it, the sniffles against her neck, and then the broken sob that escaped full lips; the same lips that she'd only kissed moments before.

"We…" Quinn coughed, running her hands up and down Quinn's back, "We need to get out of here."

Rachel just nodded into her neck, but didn't move. So Quinn kissed her temple gently, feeling as if it was second nature to her, "We need to get out of here," She repeated, pressing yet another kiss to Rachel's temple.

This time, the singer moved, pulling back slightly and nodding, but not meeting Quinn's eyes.

The drive was in silence, and for once Quinn wished the girl beside her would jabber on about something, like Glee or Barbra Streisand, something to break the tension that filled the void between them.

She still felt the pain in her lower back; an almost permanent fixture to her life. Stabbed, poisoned, beaten, shot - what would happen next? What more would Rachel have to be exposed to? Could she expose her to anything more? She was broken enough at is, just from one death. Quinn didn't know how many times she'd die until this ended.

If it ended.

They were outside Rachel's house before they knew it, and silently, Rachel turned off the ignition, pulled the key free and all but slumped into her seat. She looked like she'd been crying silently throughout the whole ride, although Quinn didn't notice, who had taken the time to either stare out of the window or fiddle with her fingers in her lap.

"You remember it?"

Rachel nodded slowly, jerkily, and Quinn thought she'd broken her.

"Why is it different this time? I don't understand." Quinn asked mostly to herself, shaking her head in disbelief, "Homunculus usually takes me back in time, and that usually wipes the memories of the people around me. Why is it different?"

"Who knows…?" Rachel replied softly, fiddling with her keys, "We should go in…just in case."

Quinn could only nod and follow Rachel into her house. Not surprising, Rachel's father's weren't home. "They're out for the day," Rachel told her as soon as she'd shut the front door behind her, then disappeared into the living room without another word.

The blonde found her sat on the couch, arms wrapped around her stomach protectively, "I'm sorry that…you remember that."

Rachel's face crumpled, and then she was just crying, sobbing and wheezing for breath as tears of anguish poured down her cheeks. Quinn stood still, watching the scene with wounded eyes. She'd done this, she'd hurt Rachel - this stupid predicament broke Rachel and Quinn had no idea how to put her back together again.

"I-I thought…I felt…" Rachel choked out. It was a polar opposite. Earlier on Rachel had been bubbly, fresh and vibrant, now she was just dull and dark, just like an old painting that hadn't seen the light of day. Quinn felt something snap in her chest.

"I felt your life go, Quinn. I _felt_ it."

And the sobs just grew louder, and she felt so fucking stupid because she was just stood there watching the small girl physically shake because she was so distraught. There was no blood on her shirt, thankfully, that would have just been overkill. But the way Rachel's body just seemed to collapse in on itself didn't give the blood much leeway.

"I'm…sorry." What else was there to say? Let me go back in time and fix it? She could, the PAD was still in her dress pocket, but what would change? Homunculus had made his choice - the being wanted Rachel to remember that death for some reason that Quinn had no idea of comprehending. No matter what she did, Rachel would always have that in her mind, always there, a niggling little memory that refused to lie or sleep.

"I'm back now." Quinn mumbled, eyes still locked on the small singer. Her eyes were misty, and there was an urge to collapse beside Rachel and cry right along with her, but she didn't. She just…felt nothing. So she stood, and listened to the sobs echo around the empty room, and allowed herself to be wrapped up in the melancholy.

Rachel stood and walked right up to Quinn, eyes still watery and red - she'd never looked so beautiful, even when crying. The blonde just looked down at her, swallowing heavily, throat bobbing.

"Take a breath."

Quinn's mouth opened, and she did what she was told, taking one big deep breath, holding it for only a fraction of a second and then letting it go. The singer watched as Quinn's chest and stomach moved in time with her breathing, and that seemed to alleviate something inside her.

"Again," She all but demanded, pulling Quinn down by her neck, lips hovering dangerously close to hers, "Please, Quinn…" She asked, softer this time, and Quinn crumbled. She did the exact same thing, taking a breath, holding it and then letting it go against Rachel's parted lips.

"You're really back."

Quinn just nodded, and then finally cried when Rachel collapsed into her arms and held her close. She'd never felt so wanted, and she was glad she'd made the choice to come back. Rachel was a permanent fixture in her life now - sod school, her family and friends; Rachel was the one that made her want to come back, made her want to beat this thing, made her want to live.

And she loved the thrill it gave her.

"Why…do I remember?" The singer asked quietly against her chest, fingertips dancing ever so slightly against her back, "I thought I would forget; forget that it happened, forget that you…died."

"I don't know, but I'm sure as hell going to ask."

Rachel's head shook, and Quinn knew she was nodded, although the smaller girl didn't really understand what was going on, "It hurt you, didn't it?"

Rachel pulled back ever so slightly, peering up at Quinn. Brown eyes locked on hazel, and Quinn felt as if her soul was being laid bare. Rachel didn't have to say anything, but she knew from the broken look in her eyes that she knew it hurt, even killed her to remember.

"Maybe…" The blonde cleared her throat after she spoke again, her voice weak. It was still weak when she continued to speak, but she could hardly care, "I shouldn't see you…until this is over." She felt Rachel shift suddenly in her arms, so she tightened her hold around the girl and sighed, "One time is enough, Rach. One time is enough to break you and it has, I can't do that to you again."

"Not being able to see you is enough to break me, Quinn." Rachel pulled her arms away from Quinn's back and pressed her palms against the blonde's shoulders, pushing her away, "I'm in too deep now, don't push me away when I know you need me the most."

"How did you-,"

Rachel smiled sadly, "I know everything about you, McFly."

And she felt like crying all over again hearing the nickname that Rachel had given her, but she held strong, and sighed softly when Rachel's hands fell from her shoulders and rested at her hips.

"You kissed me…" Quinn mumbled, hands still splayed on the bottom of Rachel's back, "When I-,"

"For a split second I thought," Rachel stopped, took a shuddering breath and nodded to herself, almost as if she was agreeing with herself that she'd kept herself in check, "I thought…that you wouldn't come back. For a split second."

"I promised you I'd come back."

The singer shook her head, "How can you be sure what will happen, Quinn? This is so surreal; people don't just die and come back with the click of their fingers. Homunculus shouldn't exist, that device you have shouldn't exist. There's nothing normal about this; nothing that you can be sure about."

"Rach…"

"So yes, for a split second, I thought I should take my last chance, even if it broke my heart in the process." the brunette pulled away, and walked back over to the couch, all but collapsing against it, "And it did."

"But I'm back." Quinn replied, hesitantly walking toward the other girl.

Rachel's shoulder's shuddered with a humourless laugh, "How long for though, Quinn?" She looked up and locked eyes, "How do I know that when you walk out this door you just won't be killed again."

"I'll come back." She said forcefully, falling to her knees in front of the brunette, "I'll always come back, I have to. I'm seventeen, I'm not ready to let this thing beat me."

"Your determination always did attract me to you," Rachel threaded her fingers through Quinn's hair and sighed, "Just like the Cheerleader that swore me off of Finn."

"That was a long time ago." Quinn leaned up, pressing a kiss to Rachel's forehead, "I'll fix this, I promise." Then she fell back onto the backs of her legs and smiled softly, "Okay?"

It was a tall order to promise, and when Rachel nodded in the affirmative, she thought she'd doomed herself.

* * *

><p>"Why does she remember?" Quinn all but shouted at Homunculus in the back yard of Rachel's house. The brunette had gone to take a shower, and in that time it'd taken Quinn screaming bloody murder for ten minutes until Homunculus finally appeared.<p>

**"She is the reason you keep coming back, correct?"** Quinn nodded, **"It's better that she remembers - better that she remembers what you're going through. In the long run, it'll help; she won't stand in your way when it comes to make critical decisions. She'll stand back and allow you to make them, because she knows exactly what you're going through."**

She jabbed her index finger violently into his soft chest, "You had no right! No right!" She paced up and down beside him, watching as the grass beneath her feet crunched and bent, "She's literally shaking she's that terrified! This is my ordeal, not hers!"

**"She's not terrified by what you're going through, Quinn. All she is scared about is losing you, that much is clear."**

"So you let her remember me dying?"

Homunculus slowly fell to the ground at his feet, crossing his legs almost regally as he played with the grass at his fingertips. He seemed almost enthralled by how easy it was to pluck grass from the ground, **"It's a wake up call, Quinn. Rachel needed it, she didn't know how serious your predicament was. Now she does."**

"She's broken." Quinn sighed, glancing up behind her at the diva's bedroom window, "What if I can't put her back together again?"

**"You will."**

He was gone.

* * *

><p>Rachel needed to shower, she needed to scrub the blood away that she knew wasn't there but felt. She remembered the blood splash across her chest and stomach, felt how warm and wet it was. It made her want to be sick, and she almost was as she rung out a wash cloth, doused it in almost half a bottle of shower gel and scrubbed like her life depended on it.<p>

Her skin was raw and red, it hurt to touch, but she still felt dirty. She was about to go back for the bottle when there was a gentle knock on the bathroom door, only barely heard over the pounding of the shower.

"Rachel?"

Even hearing Quinn's voice made her want to fall apart - she felt like she was dreaming, like Quinn had really died and now she was just a constant memory, there to rip her apart with every word and glance.

She opened her mouth to call out, but nothing would come. She was speechless, her body ached, and the wash cloth in her hand felt like a lead weight.

Then the door was opening, and she saw Quinn's silhouette behind the shower curtain, "Are you okay?" It was a dumb question, they both knew it; of course she wasn't okay. She'd watched the girl she'd fallen for be shot and die right in front of her.

Rachel just stared down at the wash cloth, and the clear water that ran down into the plug hole at her feet. There was no blood - the blood didn't exist, it was still inside Quinn. The blonde was still there, still alive, still breathing, she'd felt it herself.

She opened her mouth to reply, but then the shower curtain was shifting and Quinn was behind her, holding her from behind, still fully clothed, sans her shoes and socks. Rachel shook in Quinn's arms, feeling more tears mix into the water that washed over her face.

"I'm here. I won't let you go."

And she believed every word.

Slowly, she turned, completely unabashed that she was completely naked. Quinn didn't glance down, or even look anywhere else that wasn't her eyes. The complete certainty in her eyes made Rachel want to crumble, but she just fell into Quinn's arms, content just to be held.

When Rachel started shivering, Quinn immediately went for the taps and shut them off. Without a word she left the shower, grabbed a towel and began to dry Rachel off. The brunette was just content to stand there and let Quinn dry her off, not even flinching when the soft towel brushed over the sensitive skin of her breasts.

"Do you want to…?" Quinn held out the towel, trying not to glance down, red shading her usually pale cheeks, "I d-don't…want to intrude m-more than I already have."

Rachel took the towel, but not because Quinn had intruded, but simply because now the haze of being held by the blonde had dissipated and it'd actually seeped in that she was in fact _naked_ and stood in front of Quinn Fabray.

"I'll be right out," Rachel said, watching as the taller girl nodded and left the bathroom, letting the door click shut softly behind her.

Quinn sat on Rachel's bed, elbows pressed heavily into the flesh of her thighs, hands threaded through her now damp hair. Her heartbeat thudded harshly in her chest, and she felt as if she couldn't breathe - what had possessed her to actually walk into the bathroom and right into the brunette's shower?

It was obvious Rachel was still finding it hard, so she did the only thing she could do; kicked off her shoes and socks and joined the girl, just holding her, somehow hoping that it would keep the girl together. Quinn knew that when Homunculus said she could put her back together, she could - she just didn't know how - she was willing to try anything.

The bathroom door opened slowly, and Quinn's head snapped up automatically, making her neck twitch uncomfortably. The singer was donned in a pair of grey sweatpants and a black tank top. She sat up, drying her now damp palms on her dress, "Do you feel better now?"

Rachel nodded gently, padding barefoot over to Quinn and sitting down beside her, "Thank you for that."

"For what…?" Quinn asked softly, looking across at her.

"Holding me in there…but I'm sorry you had to see me like that." Rachel bit her bottom lip and slyly glanced up at Quinn, "You know…naked."

"O-oh!" The blonde nodded, feeling the blush return to her cheeks. Damn. "It's uh…alright. Really."

They both fell silent, and it was damn uncomfortable. They sat and stared into space, Quinn fidgeting slightly on the bed. She'd just seen Rachel naked, and now the usually talkative diva was decidedly mute, "Maybe I should…?" She gestured over to the door with her thumb.

"Oh of course. If you have other things to attend to, of course you can leave. I'm sorry for taking too much of your time."

It was already four, and Hailey and her mom were no doubt sat at home waiting for her to come home for dinner. But the thought of leaving Rachel alone, feeling the way she did, just shouted 'hell no' to her.

"Give me a sec," Quinn grabbed her phone that lay beside the PAD on Rachel's bedside table, and flipped through her contacts, then hit the text button. Amidst her furious typing, she didn't see Rachel stand up and grab the PAD, flipping it over delicately in her hands as if it would explode. "Okay, done. Rachel!"

The blonde launched up and grabbed the PAD, clutching it in her hand, "Don't. Don't touch it, okay? You don't know how to use it, and I'd have no way of finding you."

"I wasn't going to use it, Quinn. I'm not completely brain dead." Rachel huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, and just for a second, it reminded her of the Rachel Berry she knew from school.

"I didn't say you were brain dead, Rach…just…" The blonde sighed and put the PAD back down on the bedside table, "If you want to look at it, ask me, okay? I'll hold it while you look."

The brunette nodded, then bit her bottom lip.

"What's wrong?" Quinn asked, brow furrowed.

"Can I…" Then she shook her head.

"No, go on." The blonde sat up straighter on the bed, watching Rachel as she played with her still wet hair, almost shyly, timidly. It made Quinn's heart melt, "You can tell me."

"I find it completely annoying," Rachel huffed, letting go of her hair, "I'm usually quite eloquent and now I can't seem to form a single sentence."

"You just formed one," Quinn replied, a smirk forming at the corner of her mouth.

Rachel rolled her eyes mockingly, "You know…" Then she stopped, huffed, almost stomped over to Quinn and pulled her up, "I'm just going to do it," Then wrapped her arms around the taller girls neck, stood on her tiptoes and kissed her like it was the last thing she'd ever be able to do.

Quinn moaned into the kiss, her arms automatically finding themselves wrapped around the diva's small waist. She'd never felt something so delicious, and it was so different to their last kiss - that was full of anguish, of loss - this was full of lust, something primal that Quinn could quite place, but when she felt Rachel's tongue brush almost hesitantly against hers, she couldn't even remember her own name.

Their tongue's brushed gently against one another, tasting one another as hands clawed at one another, desperate to find purchase. Rachel pulled back slightly, mouth open, a quiet moan whimpering from the back of her throat before she crashed her lips back up against Quinn's, their kiss more forceful than timid.

Quinn felt like she was floating, the way Rachel's nails dug into the back of her neck, the way Rachel felt pressed against her body, the way Rachel's mouth tasted - of coffee and tears - it was delicious, and she was hooked.

Then the contact was gone, and Rachel was panting, her forehead against Quinn's swollen lips, "I'm sorry."

Quinn breathed heavily though her nose, "Don't apologize," And she kissed the smaller girl's forehead, brushing the wet hair back from where it had fallen against her face, "You don't hear me complaining," She chuckled gently.

"I just…don't want to move so fast. We only admitted our feelings for one another only a few hours ago," Rachel pulled back and looked up, locking eyes with Quinn, "It seems as if everything's moving so fast."

"If it wasn't for the situation we were in, I'm sure we'd be going a lot slower. I probably wouldn't have admitted my feelings for you."

"True," Rachel bit her bottom lip and glanced down at Quinn's, "What about Sam?"

"Huh?" Quinn asked, too preoccupied with leaning down and brushing her lips against Rachel's, "Oh…I'll end it."

"Okay," The singer whispered breathlessly against the blonde's lips, "Okay…"

And they were kissing again.

And it was perfect.

* * *

><p>Four hours later, they were in bed, just content to hold each other. Quinn had finally changed from her sopping wet dress into a pair of shorts and a shirt - that had the picture of a fox on the front, but it wasn't like she was going out in public, so she could care less. Rachel clutched to Quinn, almost as if she was afraid to let her go - like the blonde would disappear if her grip slackened just one tiny bit.<p>

She'd nuzzled into the blonde's neck, content to just bathe in Quinn's scent; a perfume that the blonde had taken to wearing the beginning of junior year. It did wonders for the senses, and she was sure that Quinn knew that.

"Rach?" The front door opened and shut, then the rustling of bags, "Honey are you home?"

Rachel sighed against Quinn's neck and pulled away reluctantly, "I'm in my room daddy."

"Okay! Come down and pick what you want for dinner."

Rachel sat up groggily, moving her hair over to her right shoulder as she looked down at Quinn, "You'll stay tonight, right?"

The blonde nodded, "Already text my mom telling her."

"Okay," Rachel smiled, "Now come down, I'm almost positive my dad will want take out."

* * *

><p>"Take out!" Jeremiah Berry bellowed from inside the kitchen, hands clutching a large pile of take out menu's.<p>

Quinn hid her smirk behind her hand, and Rachel glanced at Quinn, raising an eyebrow with a silent 'I told you so' accompanying it.

"I told you our family is committed to take out."

"Ah, there you are Rach, what do you-," Jerry stopped, "Oh! And who is this young lady?"

Quinn gulped, dropped her hand and then extended it, "Quinn Fabray, a pleasure to meet you Mr. Berry."

Jerry shuffled the menu's, huffed just like his daughter and ended up dumping them on the kitchen table before taking Quinn's hand, "Pleasure to meet you. Fabray, you said?"

"Yes, sir."

She knew Rachel was trying not to giggle behind her, but dammit, she liked having manners when it came to meeting the parents of her girlf-, wait, what?

"As in Quinn Fabray, the cheerleader?"

Oh shit.

"Uhm…"

"Daddy, don't be mean." Rachel linked her arm with Quinn's and smiled, "Quinn isn't like that anymore, and she's no longer on the Cheerio's."

"Oh?" Jerry glanced at their linked arms, then at Quinn, and then finally stopped as they landed on his daughter, "Well…" It was almost like they were talking to each other silently, and Quinn couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable, "You'll be staying for dinner, Quinn?"

"If…it's not much of a bother."

"No bother at all!" Jerry grinned, "But of course it'll be take out, I can't cook to save my life and the only person in this house that can is still at work."

Rachel gasped, "Daddy, I can cook!"

"Oh please, Rachel…" Jerry began to filter through the menu's, "The last time you cooked something we had to buy a new cooker."

Quinn hunched over and laughed so hard it hurt her ribs, the slap on her back and scoff from Rachel just made it even funnier.

They finally agreed on Chinese, and she went for something small and simple - she didn't want to seem like a pig although she adored Chinese - chicken fried rice and a side order of chips that Rachel demand she order.

"You're too thin Quinn, you have to eat."

"Yes mother," She'd replied playfully. Jerry didn't miss the look of complete adoration of his only daughter's face, he just hoped it wouldn't end horribly.

Aaron Berry returned twenty minutes later, "Honey, I'm home!"

And Jesus they were just as much as theatrical as Rachel. Aaron was the smaller of Rachel's fathers, and distinctly Jewish looking. His glasses were perched on the edge of his nose as he regarded the blonde who sat at their table.

"And who's this?"

Jerry piped up from where he stood at the coffee maker, "Babe, this is Quinn Fabray. Rachel's _friend_."

And now she felt like melting into the chair, because it was almost as if they knew that she'd been making out with their daughter for the past four hours.

"Oooooh," Aaron dropped his briefcase down by the couch and then dropped a kiss to Rachel's head and to his husband's lips before returning his attention to the rather flustered blonde, "So you're _that_ Quinn Fabray," He commented with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"Dad…" Rachel grumbled gently, covering her eyes with her hand. Quinn watched her for only a second before returning her attention to the diva's dad.

"_That_ Quinn? What do you mean?" She asked softly.

"Our daughter talks about you all the time," Aaron took the cup of coffee his husband handed him and smiled, "Don't you, Rach?"

"Are you trying to make me die of embarrassment?"

"I think it's cute."

Rachel's head snapped up, her hand fell into her lap limply, "Really…?"

Quinn shrugged her shoulders and smiled bashfully, "I talked about you to my mom…so…"

"You told your mom about me?"

"Well…yeah…"

Jerry and Aaron watched as Rachel beamed one of her award winning smiles and leaned forward to take Quinn's lips against hers. Then she realized they had an audience, and Quinn blushed as she glanced at the two men.

"Oh, don't mind us…" Aaron waved his free hand, "We'll just be in the living room. Honey?"

Jerry just grinned, and continued to watch his daughter and Quinn.

"Honey?"

They really were adorable together - almost like polar opposites but they fit each other perfectly.

"Jerry!"

"Hm?" Jerry turned his attention to his husband, and after some weird eye movement on Aaron's part, he got the message, "Oh! Of course, the living room…food will be here soon." Both men shuffled past the two girls, but not before Jerry bent down between them and whispered, "PG-13 girls."

"Oh my god, Daddy!"

"Ah…heh…" Quinn slid down in her seat, her face warm and flushed. They were left alone, mercifully, and the two girls sat in a comfortable silence. Quinn regarded the brunette, who sat fiddling with a fork between two fingers. "You…haven't told your dads about…y'know?"

Rachel snapped her attention to Quinn and smiled, "Of course not Quinn, and honestly I don't think I will for a while. It's not their business, although I wholly believe in being completely truthful with your parents. But no, I haven't told them."

"Oh good…"

"Although it would be good to see their faces, when I did tell them."

"I think they'd faint." Quinn mumbled, fiddling with a knife.

"Faint? Oh no, Quinn - they're fine with the fact I'm bisexual; the two of us exploring our sexual desires for one another just comes with the package."

Quinn's jaw dropped, watching as Rachel rose from her seat and sat down in Quinn's lap, wrapping her arms around the blonde's neck. It was perfect, the way Rachel's arms seemed to belong around her - the heat that radiated off the brunette's body made her feel safe and secure.

"I think…" Quinn cleared her throat, "I-I think we're on about d-different things."

"Oh?" Rachel asked with a raise of her eyebrow, her attention well and truly on Quinn's lips. The urge to take them against hers almost overwhelmed her body, and the way Quinn's hands seem to drift up and down her back did nothing to calm her libido. Girls want sex just as much as guys, indeed.

"I was t-talking about my time travelling."

"Oh!" Rachel's eyes snapped to Quinn's, but she made no move to get off Quinn's lap. She'd only ever had dreams of being sat in the blonde's lap, cradled in her arms, safe and secure. "I haven't told them." Then she paused, "Do you want me to?"

Honestly, Quinn wasn't sure. It would have been nice to have two adults know about her predicament, because God knows what her mother would do if she found out she was being head hunted by an unknown source. But the two Berry's seemed like the sort of people who would understand her predicament. But then again, she was doing fine by herself so far, especially with Santana and Rachel on her side. What could Jerry and Aaron do that Rachel and Santana couldn't?

"I'll think about it." Quinn smiled softly, "Right now, I just want to get my head together. I need to sort a lot of things out."

"Like?" Rachel asked quietly, curling a golden lock around her finger.

"My situation for one - I need to find out who's doing this." Quinn shrugged, "Then I guess I need to speak to Sam as soon as possible."

Rachel smiled bashfully, looking down, "Oh? What for?"

"Well, I can hardly be with him when I feel this way for you."

"And how do you feel?" The singer whispered, almost bashfully.

"Like I can't breathe," Quinn bobbed her head, hoping to catch Rachel's eyes, "This is probably the strongest feeling I've ever felt in my life, Rach. I'm not going to throw it away, not when I know this is something special."

"Really…?" Rachel glanced up, smiling when she saw Quinn watching her with what looked like adoration in her eyes, "You mean that?"

"Of course."

"It's just…" Rachel sighed, "I've been hurt before, Quinn. Finn and Jesse both hurt me so much, I just don't think I'll be able to handle-,"

"You won't have to." Quinn butted in, eyes hard, controlled and sure, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying here, and I'm going to make sure I do. I'm going to get through this, and I'm going to find the person that's doing this. At first I thought I'd be too weak to deal with it…but I know I can…because I have you by my side."

Rachel brushed a tear from her cheek and smiled, "I think I know why it hurt so much…when you…"

"Don't talk about it, okay?" Quinn leaned forward and took Rachel's lips against hers, she moaned gently at the contact, "Don't think about it…" She mumbled against the lips, and when she felt the single nod of affirmation, she pushed into the kiss, Rachel's arms wrapping tighter around her neck.

Tongue's brushed against one another, and gentle whimpers of pleasure escaped into one another's mouths. Rachel's nails dug into the back of her neck, and the feeling made her groan and melt into the touch. She clutched the back of Rachel's shirt, all but pulling the brunette against her.

Their bodies melded together, and when Rachel moved her legs to straddle Quinn, the blonde pulled back, gasping for air. "Your dads…"

"…Are in the other room," Rachel gasped, pushing her body against Quinn's, moaning softly when breasts touched breasts, "Quinn…"

The whine that escaped Rachel's lips sent a jolt up and down her body, and for one second, she completely forgot that Rachel's father's were in the same house. They all but attacked one another's mouth, Quinn's hands drifting down to grab Rachel's backside.

Rachel ground down into the blonde's lap, and with a gasp, she ripped her lips away.

"Rachel, we can't…they could walk in…"

"We're only kissing, Quinn…" Rachel pouted as she reluctantly pulled back, hands coming from around the blonde's neck to drift down her chest, "They've seen me kiss people before."

"But have they seen you straddling them…? And didn't you say we were moving too fast earlier on…?"

Rachel didn't reply, and slowly, Quinn's eyebrow rose in silent question. Eventually, Rachel conceded and went back to sitting on Quinn's lap, "Good point."

The ex-Cheerio smirked, moving her hand up to run through Rachel's brown locks, "It's too soon, anyway. I mean…I don't even know where we stand right now."

"Well," Rachel quickly glanced over her shoulder when she heard the doorbell ring, "Do you want to date me?"

"Well…yeah, I thought that was obvious." Quinn shrugged.

"Quinn!" the blonde leaned back, trying not to laugh at the mixture of shock and horror on Quinn's face, "Ask me properly!"

"And we have dinner," Aaron chimed, walking into the dining room, both hands grasping two bags of Chinese take out, "Rachel, you can't eat on Quinn's lap unfortunately, on your own seat thank you."

Rachel pouted and reluctantly climbed off Quinn's lap, but she didn't miss the way her father winked at the blushing blonde as she moved.

* * *

><p>"Are you going to ask me?" Was asked when her fork, filled with probably the best chicken fried rice ever, was at her open mouth. The brunette beside her had been asking ever since dinner began.<p>

Rachel Berry was relentless, she knew that from when she first met the girl, but this was just too much. Jerry and Aaron were sat directly opposite her, speaking amongst themselves but glancing out of the corner of their eyes every time Rachel whispered the same question.

"Are you going to ask me?" She asked again, and Quinn was close to boiling point. She was still dating Sam, the sweet guy that would do anything for her, while making out with her ex-nemesis and eating dinner with her family. She felt terrible, and the way Rachel kept going on and on and on about it was beginning to grind her gears.

So she just shoved the forkful of rice into her mouth and chewed slowly, hoping to by herself more time. Rachel was eating vegetable chow mien, and only seemed to open her mouth after she'd finished a mouthful, so she ate when Quinn did, and swallowed when Quinn did, hoping to catch the blonde at an opportune moment.

The blonde wanted to scream.

"Rach, can we like…do this in private or something?" Quinn asked quietly when Rachel asked _yet_ again, "It's a pretty big deal for me."

Rachel huffed and then nodded, "Of course, Quinn. I understand."

Dinner was a pretty small affair; Aaron and Jerry asked what she was doing with herself now she was off the Cheerio's and it took everything in her to not say: Oh I'm trying to find the guy that's trying to kill me, but these are good chips, right?

Both of the Berry men were so accommodating, and in a way, she resented it. If Rachel had been over when her father still lived with her, he'd have been awkward, drunk at the table, shouting and berating the people he worked with because of some business deal that went down the drain.

It was completely different at the Berry household - they laughed and joked, it was such a warm change to the stressful dinners that she held with her mother every night.

The two girls excused themselves straight after dinner and went up to Rachel's bedroom - the brunette had sobered through dinner - she seemed to almost drag her feet and when Quinn closed the door behind her, she burst into fresh tears.

"Rach?"

She enveloped the brunette in a strong hug, holding her close, "Hey, what's wrong? You were fine earlier on."

"I do-don't know I just…" Rachel gasped for air against Quinn's chest, "I just remembered your face when you…when you…"

_Got shot._

Was this PTSD?

"Rach…" Quinn whispered, running her hand through the singer's hair, "I'm still here. I'll always come back, I promise."

"It was your face, Quinn…" Rachel pulled back, glancing up at the taller girl with watery eyes, "You looked like you were in so much pain."

"It only hurt for a second," She lied, because it hurt a whole fucking lot. It felt as if her whole body was on fire, and then she suddenly went so cold she thought she was in an ice bath. It was the most disgusting and traumatic feeling anyone could ever go through - but Rachel did _not_ need to know that.

Gently, she pushed the brunette away from her, "Hey, Rach?"

The smaller girl sniffled, wiping her nose unceremoniously with the palm of her hand, "Yeah…?"

"Would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?" The blonde whispered, making sure to hold the connection between two pairs of eyes. Hazel locked on brown, and for one millisecond things seemed perfect. The situation that Quinn had found herself in seemed to be nonexistent - the fact that her life was being threatened seemed as if it was some sort of dream.

Right here and now, with Rachel staring at her like she was an angel sent to grace the planet, was the most important thing.

And then Rachel nodded, and Quinn was crying because she didn't know perfection could be reached. Everything, no matter how short the feeling, felt as if it was slotted into place and the peace that rushed through her body felt so unbelievably _fucking_ amazing.

"It'll…take me a while…" Quinn whispered into Rachel's neck when she all but jumped into her arms, "To come out at school and everything, right now I just want to go slow."

Rachel sniffled against the taller girls neck, still on her tiptoes, before chuckling slightly, "I can't promise that."

Quinn didn't know whether to blush or let her jaw hit the floor.


	13. Chapter 12

**Shadow of Fate - Chapter 12**

Monday morning and Quinn was stood at her locker, stowing away her Math book in exchange for her English. The weekend with Rachel had been interesting to say the least, they'd spent the rest of Saturday and most of Sunday together, just lounging about at the diva's house. It was probably one of the most relaxing weekends she'd had in a long time, although the feeling that her killer may be staking out the house was one she couldn't shake.

The two girls hadn't progressed their relationship any further from kissing and light groping, over the shirt of course, Quinn still had _some_ morals to abide by. Rachel had been so accommodating, asking her if what she was doing was fine, if she was uncomfortable or if she should stop; a welcome change to Finn grinding on her and Sam trying to get under her bra every time they made out.

Saturday night was awful though - Rachel had chirped back up again, her usual self, watching Funny Girl in bed with Quinn until the tiny girl eventually fell asleep from exhaustion. Quinn had stayed up and just watched; the angelic and peaceful look on Rachel's face was enough to lull her into a content sleep.

Then she'd felt a smack on her back during the night, and glancing up at the clock on Rachel's bedside table, she saw it had only just past two am. She thought she'd jumped in her sleep from a fleeting dream she couldn't quite remember. Rachel was still breathing lightly behind her, and the sound itself, almost like a lullaby put her back to sleep.

She felt another smack going on half past two, and she'd only just opened her eyes when she felt another, and then another, and then a whine that sounded so heartbreaking, she flipped over in bed to regard the sleeping brunette beside her.

"Rach?" She whispered, gently shaking the whining girl by the shoulder. No longer was Rachel's face peaceful; her brow was creased, mouth open slightly, eyes squeezed shut so tight it looked painful, "Rach, wake up."

And then the singer's arms were flailing around in bed, and Quinn was sure she heard her name over the sound of being pounded by clenched fists. So she did the only thing she could do, she gripped her girlfriend's wrists tightly and pinned them down on one side, "Rachel!"

The diva's eyes snapped open, she looked alert, but her eyes were wide and hazy, like she was still half asleep, "Hm…?" The brunette asked, mouth hardly moving which had snapped shut.

"You're having a bad dream…" She'd whispered, leaning closer to Rachel's ear, pressing a soft kiss to it.

"I wah…?"

Quinn nodded against the side of her face, knowing that Rachel could feel it. And then Rachel was turning on her side, eyes still hazy but much more alert, "I dreamt I was running after you. You were running away from…a shadow and…I couldn't catch up to you." She took a ragged breath, and allowed her heartbeat to slow down as Quinn ran a hand through her hair. "And when I finally did, you were lying on the floor…and there was blood…" She drifted off and choked on a sob.

Three hours later, an exhausted Quinn held an equally exhausted Rachel who had finally fallen asleep when the tears would run no more. She just stayed awake, wondering how she could fix it all.

Rachel had been fine the next morning, the night before seemed as if it was a distant memory. Rachel had gotten up at 9, forgoing her 6am schedule for exercising and made pancakes with her father's, and served Quinn breakfast in bed. It almost made up for the sleepless night. _Almost_.

At certain moments, Rachel would slip into a sombre mood, then seem to come back out of it again when Quinn just brushed her hand, or kissed her temple or whispered words in her ear. There we other times when the moods were worse than others; sometimes the singer would just leave the room and lock herself in her bathroom, or bury herself in a task for a few hours. But then she'd just come back and sit next to Quinn like nothing had happened.

Quinn wasn't stupid, she knew the signs - Rachel was suffering because of her death, and she knew she was going through Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and she knew it wasn't healthy. The good thing was that Rachel agreed with Quinn, and promised to try not shut herself away anymore.

It's all the blonde could ask for, and asked…no, _demanded_ that Rachel call her if she woke up from a bad dream.

She'd been called two times the night before, and just pulling her book from the locker had her exhausted.

"Hey, Q." Sam walked up to her and kissed her on the cheek.

His hair had gotten a lot longer…when had that happened? She mentally cursed, this just proved how much attention she wasn't giving her boyfriend, well…soon to be _ex_ boyfriend if her _girlfriend_ had anytime to do with it, "I tried ringing you on the weekend, I left like…eight messages."

"Oh, uh…I was busy with a friend, she was going through a lot so I just spent the weekend with her."

"Oh right, okay." Then he grinned and adjusted the strap of his backpack on his shoulder, "So um…do you want to do anything tonight? I don't have much money, but… I guess I could score us some cinema tickets?"

"Sam…" Quinn whispered gently, placing a gentle hand on his forearm, "We need to talk." He just watched her, and she sighed, glancing over her shoulders before shutting her locker, "In private."

They found themselves in an abandoned science classroom, one of the old ones that Figgins was planning to have remodelled. Half of the gas taps didn't work, and none of the taps did at all.

"So, what do you wanna talk about?" Sam asked, dumping his backpack on the floor and jumping onto a nearby table, "We're totally ditching class, should we be doing this?"

"If I don't do it now, I won't have the guts at all…" She paced relentlessly in front of him, wringing her hands in front of her, eyes narrowed in concentration on her feet as she took each individual step. Then she felt a light tug on her shirt, and she was being pulled back into her boyfriend and trapped between his open legs.

"Tell me," Now he was serious, the boy wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box, but he knew when something serious had to be spoken about. He grabbed her hands and held them in his, "Babe, what's wrong?"

He was so compassionate, his eyes shined with care and it broke her heart, "I…uhm…"

"Quinn, c'mon, you can tell me anything. You know that." He smiled, "We can trust each other with this stuff. I trusted you with my parents going bust, now you can trust me."

Oh God, she couldn't do it.

"Is this about your mom? Has she started drinking again or something?"

"I…" Her eyes shot to both his eyes, "I…yes."

_FUCK!_

"Look, you can't expect her to stay on the bandwagon forever, she's bound to fall off from time to time. Just support her and tell her how you feel, she'll soon get on the right track." Then he smiled, lent down and kissed her gently, "Now I gotta go, I promised Coach Beiste I'd be there for morning practice." He jumped off the bench, grabbed his backpack and headed for the door, "See you at lunch, kay?"

Oh God, she needed to do it. She couldn't face seeing him at lunch when she already promised she'd sit with Rachel.

"Sam! Wait!"

He stopped and turned, dopey smile still on his face. He looked so childish - it broke her heart.

"I can't be with you anymore."

His smile dropped, and she swore she felt the room go cold, "What…? Why?"

"I can't be with you when I have feelings…" She sighed gently, defeated and looked down at her hands, "For someone else."

He didn't reply, and she shut her eyes to somehow block out what was happening around her. She felt like shit in all honesty, but something inside her was lifted, like this was suppose to happen, so she clung to that feeling like it was a lifeline.

"Is it Finn?"

"Hell no!" She exclaimed before she could even stop it, her head snapping up to look at Sam, who stood there, dejected with a look of…something she couldn't describe on his face.

"Then who is it? At least tell me that."

"I-," She choked out, mouth suddenly dry, "I can't…"

"You owe me that at least, Quinn!" He shouted, eyes blazing as he watched her shift from foot to foot. She was so uncomfortable, and she'd have already bolted for the door if it wasn't for Sam standing right in front of it. Why did this classroom have one door and the choir room have three? It was stupid.

"Sam…I'm still freaking out a little about it…please just…understand."

"I understand, Quinn." He replied, his voice return to a sense of normality, "But just tell me who it is. That's all I want to know."

"…"

"Well, it seems as if you're not gonna tell me," He adjusted his backpack again and then ran a hand through his long fringe.

"Sam, I'm so sorry…" She took a step forward, but when he stepped back, although he was several steps away from her, she stopped, "Please understand that I never wanted to hurt you like this," She felt a tear escape from the corner of her eye.

"Yeah…but you did, didn't you?" He bit his bottom lip, glanced down to the floor and shook his head, "I'll see you later, Quinn." Then he turned on the heel of his feet and all but stormed out of the room, "Have fun with your diva."

It took Quinn ten minutes to calm down, and she'd only just left the classroom and shut the door firmly behind her when she stopped and thought back for a second.

There was only one diva that she and Sam knew.

And she didn't tell him who she had feelings for…

…So how did he know?

* * *

><p>It was lunch time before she'd gotten a chance to see her girlfriend, who seemed to disappear, which was highly unusual. Quinn could usually tell if the diva was rounding a corner, something seemed to shift in the atmosphere. Her texts and calls had gone unanswered and she'd begun to panic.<p>

Up until she was in the lunch line and she felt a tap on the back of her shoulder. "Hello Quinn," the blonde turned and smiled gently down at the brunette, "How're you?"

"Alright," She replied softly and Rachel knew immediately that her girlfriend had done the deed. She was free of Sam Evans - it was a tad obvious, especially from the way the blonde boy seemed to glare at her from across the cafeteria, his plastic fork spearing harshly into a piece of mechanically produced chicken stick. "Where have you been?"

"Class," Rachel furrowed her eyebrows, "Then I was in the choir room my free period practicing my scales. Why, what's wrong?"

"I called you like…ten times."

"My phone is in my locker." Then Rachel crossed her arms over her chest, "Quinn, you shouldn't really have your phone out during class. Don't you have a 4.0 to maintain? You really can't get into the university of your choice if you're too busy calling and texting other people."

Quinn smiled, "I missed your rambles."

The singer blushed and followed Quinn as she moved up the line, grabbing a lunch tray, "You only saw me yesterday." She whispered quietly, not allowing the people behind and in front of them to hear their conversation. Their relationship was still a secret - until Quinn deemed it appropriate to come out at school.

"I can't miss you now?" Quinn asked, her back turned to Rachel still, but the diva could tell her girlfriend's eyebrow was raised and a smirk on her lips.

"Oh, miss me all you like," She purred, and she almost giggled when she saw Quinn's back shudder through her shirt. She really did enjoy it when Quinn wore the whole jean and shirt combination, for one it showed off her fabulous ass, and the shirts fitted her form beautifully. Her hair was down in waves against her shoulders, and she had to fight back the urge to run her fingers through the golden strands. "So you told Sam?"

Quinn sighed, "Yeah, this morning," She replied, picking up a salad and dumping it on her tray, "Grab what you want," She told Rachel over her shoulder, which she immediately did, grabbing the same salad and putting it on Quinn's tray.

"What did he say?"

"He was pissed," Quinn pulled out a ten from her back pocket and handed it to the lunch lady, "Then it was weird…I didn't tell him who I'd dumped him for but then he said 'have fun with your diva'." Quinn took her change and headed over to Brittany and Santana's table, where the two had their head's bowed in quiet conversation.

"Oh…" Rachel whispered, taking a seat beside her girlfriend. Santana's eyes flashed upward toward her, and she felt as if she was intruding, but the Latina seemed to have a look of thanks in her eyes, and the brunette blushed.

"Oh, what?" Quinn asked, opening her salad.

"I may…have said something to him this morning about it," Rachel bit her bottom lip, eyes still trained on Brittany and Santana, not because she found them fascinating but she could feel the rage radiate of the blonde beside her.

"Rachel, I said I'd talk to him first." Quinn groaned, "What the hell did you say?"

"Just…that I hoped you and him were still friends and I apologized for standing in the way." Rachel bit her lip and took a chance to look at her girlfriend, "I'm sorry, he just looked a little angry this morning so I thought you'd already told him!"

"Rachel, for fu-," Quinn took a long breath, and glanced at Santana who was staring at her, "It's not your fault, you didn't know." The blonde turned to look at her and forced a smile, "Just…leave Sam to me, okay?"

Rachel just nodded, but still felt as if she was in the dog house - and damn did she hate being in the dog house. She constantly felt like that with Finn, with his power trips and complaining at her for spending to much time with Puck.

"So you two did the deed then…?" Santana asked, pulling her head away from Brittany's.

"Deed?" Rachel asked, confused.

"No, we're just…" Quinn glanced over her shoulders, "It's on the down low at the moment, no one at school knows, but we're dating."

"Oh my god!" Brittany clapped excitedly and immediately Quinn launched over the table to press her palm to her friend's lips, "Humph!"

"Brittany, that means keep it a secret okay? You can't tell anyone."

The blonde looked confused for half a second, but then she just nodded against Quinn's hand before it was pulled away, "How long have you guys been together?" Then she looked excitedly at Santana, eyes wide with happiness, "Oh! They could double date with us at Breadstix!"

"Babe, I don't share my breadsticks at Breadstix's. It's a given rule."

"Yeah, you scoffed them all before I'd even managed to take one," Quinn mumbled dejectedly, looking down at her salad, fork spearing some iceberg lettuce, "They looked good too."

"Dog eat dog world, Q. You hesitate, you lose."

"You can talk," Quinn replied with a smirk, eyebrow raised as she looked up to regard the Latina. They stared at one another, almost having a silent battle with one another's eyes. Rachel chuckled to herself, Brittany just looked confused.

"What are you two talking about?" The dancer asked, glancing at Santana and Quinn, then Rachel, "What are they talking about?"

Rachel shrugged, "Nothing Brittany, you shouldn't let it bother you. It's just two friend's going head to head, that's all. Leave them to it."

"So you're going on Fondue For Two?" Quinn asked gently, returning her attention to her salad.

"Yes, she is." Brittany replied, almost commandingly at the Latina beside her, "She knows the rules."

Quinn swallowed a piece of lettuce then raised her clenched fist to her lips, coughing gently that sounded something along the lines of 'whipped'. She felt her body shake and she knew that Latina was glaring daggers straight at her.

"You can talk." The Latina mumbled, "Spending the weekend with Berry."

"We had a fun time actually," Rachel chirped in, smiling at Quinn who smiled straight back, "Didn't we Quinn?"

"Of course," Although she didn't want to admit that she was exhausted, and they hadn't even done anything remotely sexual in nature. Rachel's bad dreams were effecting her, so much so that when she went home Sunday night she couldn't even sleep, worried that Rachel would call at any time. "A lot of fun."

"Yeah, but you didn't get it in, did you?"

Rachel choked on her mouthful of salad, and Quinn just glared, "Shut up."

"Just speaking the truth," Santana smirked, her right hand brushing gentle patterns over Brittany's left, "So you didn't?"

"No." Rachel butted in, throat still sore from almost choking on a crouton, "No we did not and I find it rude that you would insinuate such a thing. Quinn and I are taking the traditional route and we are waiting to do _that_."

"You should totally do it, Rachel." Brittany beamed, "It's so good when there's feelings involved, right San?"

Santana blushed, and Quinn blushed harder.

"Right, Britt."

* * *

><p>"Take your phone to class," Quinn whispered to her Rachel as the singer stopped at her locker.<p>

"Quinn! I've told you about the effects of not giving your full attention in class. Must I make a powerpoint about how cell phones provide a bad side effect to learning?"

"Babe, just do it."

Rachel smiled gently, pulling out her AP Chemistry book _and_ her cell phone. When the singer shut her locker, Quinn had to fight back the urge to lean down and take her girlfriend's lips against hers. The hallway was still crowded, and she wasn't really in the mood to deal with the effects of it. To everyone in school she was straight as they came, they didn't know it was as straight as a roundabout, but whatever.

To everyone around them, the two enemies had just become friends, that's all they needed to know.

Sam passed the two girls as Quinn walked Rachel to her class, and to say it was awkward was an understatement. The blonde boy glared at them as he passed, mouth pressed into a deep frown. She felt Rachel shuffle closer beside her, all but pressing her body against the taller girls and Quinn wanted to shout at him for making her uncomfortable.

"Quinn, Rachel." He mumbled as he passed, quickly disappearing around a corner without another glance.

Quinn sighed and glanced over her shoulder, "I just don't know what to do to fix it."

The diva glanced up at her, "You can't beat yourself up over this, Quinn. Sam will get over it eventually, right now you need to focus on yourself." Then she paused and lowered her voice, "Has the PAD activated at all?"

The taller girl shook her head, "No…and Homunculus hasn't spoken to me either since Saturday. I don't know, I just have a really bad feeling that something is going to happen."

Rachel bit her bottom lip, "Just…please, be careful, okay?"

"I will," Quinn whispered, wishing she could believe her own words.

* * *

><p>AP History was one of her favourite subjects, or it would be if she could actually pay attention to what Ms. Collins was talking about. Quinn was sat right in the back, a row reserved for the more popular people in the class. She still counted herself as popular, even if she wasn't with her football star boyfriend or a Cheerio anymore, and no one seemed to complain.<p>

Her pencil flipped delicately between the fingers on her left hand, her eyes just staring into space. It was weird that the PAD hadn't activated for so long, or why it hadn't activated as she died the last time - had she broken it? No, she couldn't have; it was a surreal device, one made from a being that shouldn't really exist, there was no way she could break it from just dropping it or stepping on it occasionally when it was left lying around on the floor.

Homunculus hadn't spoken to her since Saturday, and although she'd belted out his name a couple times Sunday night in her backyard, knowing her mom and sister were asleep, he still hadn't shown up. It was beginning to set her on edge - she had nothing to fall back on, no back up to rely upon in her time of need.

No one had tried to take her life since Saturday Ithankfully/I because she couldn't deal with the aftermath of _that_. And neither could Rachel. She was half tempted to leave the diva alone until this whole ordeal was over, but then thought that it could never be over crashed down upon her and the thought of never spending time with her girlfriend just shattered her resolve.

Rachel wanted to stand by Quinn, although the emotional rebound of what could happen stood like a demon between them. She almost swore she felt it snarling at them when they kissed, or when they touched and it just sent a shudder through her body. Someone was playing a very cruel and vindictive game with her, and she needed to end it.

"Now can anyone tell me what the Philosopher's stone is?" Quinn's head snapped up, and the pencil that had been balancing on her knuckles slipped to her notebook. Her teacher, Ms. Collins, a twenty something teacher fresh from the University of Florida, stood at the front, looking expectantly at the group of teenagers before her.

Quinn wanted to shout out that she knew something, but she wanted her teacher to explain it. She needed to know what her teacher knew.

"Okay," Ms. Collins smiled warmly, "The pursuit of Alchemy, in modern times, is thought as a silly, fruitless, simplistic, study of old, uninformed, science. This thought, is the key to its success. Alchemy, simply stated, is the pursuit of the fabled Philosopher's Stone. The stone, when constructed correctly, is supposed to grant the creator with three powers. These powers include: The ability to turn any amount of base metal into a limitless larger amount of the most pure gold imaginable. The ability of attaining immortality and a cure-all for all death, pain, and disease. The Elixir of Life is something that has been pursued since the dawn of man. And also the same transmutation of the alchemist's soul from a metaphorical base metal, a tarnished dirty soul, to that of pure gold, spiritual perfection and enlightenment."

The teacher glanced at her students, and mentally cursed when she realized she was talking too in depth for seventeen year olds. Half of them were doodling in their notebooks, but one student, right at the back, a blonde, seemed totally transfixed on her words. So with a smile, she continued, eyes trained on her student.

"The Great Art follows seven different stages that both represent the transmutation of the metal and the soul. I will give a brief account of these now, and delve into them in greater length at the appropriate time."

She turned and grabbed a marker pen, uncapping it and scribbling as quickly as she could on the whiteboard before her.

"The first step: calcination. Spiritually, this first stage represents the break down of the ego and breaking attachment from material possessions. Physically it is the initial break down of a base metal using fire to remove impurities."

Quinn quickly grabbed her pencil and scribbled down every word.

"The second step: dissolution. Spiritually, this second stage is a further breaking down of our false ideals by total immersion into the unconscious, or rejected part of our minds. Physically this is the dissolving of the ashes from the calcination stage in water."

"The third step: , this third stage is the process of, after breaking down all that we know and taking away the impurities, we start over and reintegrating what we choose to take as truth. Physically, this is the stage of isolation of the components of Dissolution by filtration, and then discarding any ungenuine or unworthy material."

Her hand was beginning to ache, and for some reason, everything Ms. Collins was saying made perfect sense.

"The fourth step: conjunction. The forth stage spiritually, is the empowerment of our true selves, which is, the union of both our masculine and feminine sides of our personality into a new belief system or an intuitive state of consciousness. Physically, it is the recombination of the saved elements from Separation into a new substance."

Quinn underline 'new substance' in her notebook with a few bold strokes of her pencil, almost snapping the lead.

"The fifth step: fermentation. This fifth stage spiritually, is the inspiration of spiritual power from Above that reanimates, energizes, and enlightens the Alchemist. This can be attained through intense prayer, desire for mystical union, breakdown of the personality, transpersonal therapy, psychedelic drugs, and deep meditation. Physically, this is the growth of bacteria in an organic solution."

"The sixth step: distillation. The sixth stage spiritually, is the agitation and sublimation of psychic forces, which is necessary to ensure that no impurities from the inflated ego or deeply submerged id are incorporated into the next, final stage. Physically, this is the boiling and condensation of the fermented solution to increase its purity.

"And finally, coagulation. This is the seventh and final step in the alchemical process. Spiritually, this step is the release of the Astral Body, or soul, which is called the Philosopher's Stone. Using this stone the alchemists believed they could exist on all levels of reality. Physically, this is the precipitation or sublimation of the purified Ferment from Distillation. The red powder attained from this final process is also called the Philosopher's Stone, and is said to instantly perfect any substance to which it was added."

Ms. Collins caped her marker and turned to face her students - one boy was asleep, drool sliding down from the corner of his mouth. She knew she wasn't getting through to these kids, but AP History wasn't going to be an easy ride, and she'd already told Principal Figgins when she'd first started at McKinley that she'd be teaching a lot more than what the previous teachers did.

The blonde student at the back of the room was still scribbling furiously, only glancing up occasionally to read the next sentence on the board. She smiled, and waited patiently as her student finished.

Eventually the blonde stopped, flexed her wrists a couple times, then cracked her knuckles.

"So, can I anyone tell me the last recorded location of the Philosopher's stone?"

She didn't miss the way the blonde seemed to lean forward in her seat, forearms braced on her table.

"Well, even though people think that the Philosopher's stone is a myth, some people believe that it really did exist. It's last recorded location was sometime around 1558, where it seemingly disappeared and hasn't been seen since. Can anyone tell me any regarded Alchemist from the time?" She glanced around and sighed, "C'mon guys, this will be on your final exam, you need to know this stuff."

"Dr. Russell." She heard from the back of the room, and her head snapped up to regard the blonde at the back. Some students glanced over their shoulders, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Excellent!" Ms. Collins chirped, writing the name and date on the board, "Dr. Cecil Russell was the only Alchemist based in Lima, and his work came to fruition in late 1556."

The bell rang, and all the students, barring one, packed all their things up as fast as they could and almost dashed out of the room.

"Remember you have an essay to hand in next week on the workings of Alchemy and when it was first introduced!" Ms. Collins shouted at the large group of students, "Ah…well…goodbye then…" She sighed, dropping down into her seat and packing up her papers.

"Uh, Ms. Collins?"

The teacher's head snapped up, her blonde student from the back of the class was stood in front of her, "Yes…?"

"Quinn…Quinn Fabray."

"Ah, Miss. Fabray, what can I do for you?"

"Well, I was really interested in what you had to say about the Philosopher's stone, and I know it's a weird question…but do you know where it was last seen?"

She smiled and leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs, straightening out the creases in her pants almost automatically, "No one can really be sure, people said the last place it was seen was actually _in_ Lima. Others say it's last location was somewhere in the deep south, although people seem to believe that it's in Lima due to Dr. Russell's work on the Philosopher Project."

"And the date it was last seen…you said somewhere around 1558?"

"Yes," Ms. Collins nodded gently, "But the last recorded data was destroyed when the town hall caught fire during 1572. Unfortunately, it's just a fairytale now."

Quinn sighed and nodded, "Is that one of the reasons you came up from Florida? Because this is where the Philosopher's stone was last seen?" When her teacher smiled, she did too, "I take it you did your thesis on it at University?"

"You would guess right," Ms. Collins laughed and rose from her seat, returning to packing up her papers, "Alchemy and it's history always intrigued me, after I get a couple years of teaching under my belt I want to teach at OSU."

Quinn laughed, "Well, I might take your class if I get the opportunity."

"Well, if you pay attention as much as you did today I don't see why not," The teacher picked up her folder and braced it under her arm, "Why are you so interested in the subject, if you don't mind me asking?"

Quinn shrugged, "Just sounds interesting."

Nah, she just promised a friend.

* * *

><p><strong>Do you want to come to mine after school? I'm baking your favourite cupcakes!<strong>

Quinn smiled at the text as she walked to her next class.

**Sorry babe, I'd love to, but I have other plans.**

She'd only just sat down at her desk when her phone vibrated against her leg, **Other plans…?**

**I need to go back in time to find something for a friend in 1556. And yes, I promise I'll be careful.**

A vibrating phone against her thigh wasn't a good thing when she was in the middle of giving her answer to her Physics teacher, **Can I come with you?**

Honestly, she was tempted, but there was also a high probability she would be attacked as she went back in time. She didn't want Rachel around if that happened, and although she wanted to broaden Rachel's horizon, as she'd spoken about it Sunday afternoon, she couldn't allow Rachel's PTSD to spiral out of control.

**I want you to, but it's better if I go by myself. I'm only going to be gone a few hours at the most, and I don't think Homunculus is happy with me sending people back with me.**

It was an excuse - she knew Homunculus didn't really care.

**Okay…**

Okay, now she was in the dog house. She had her thumbs poised to type when her teacher piped up at the front, "Miss. Fabray, give me your phone, you can collect it at the end of the day."

Well fuck.

* * *

><p>Glee arrived, and Quinn was on her way their to grovel a little…okay a IlotI to her girlfriend, but when she was stopped by her old Cheerio Coach.

Sue Sylvester, sporting a garish purple tracksuit, sunglasses poised on the bridge of her nose stared down at her ex head Cheerio. "Q, after your pathetic club I need you to meet me in my office."

"Uh, I'm not on the Cheerio's anymore, Coach Sylvester."

Sue rolled her eyes, pushed her glasses back up her nose and stormed past the blonde, "Just be there."

Rachel was sat at the back of the room, legs and arms crossed, looking severally pissed off, as did Sam Evans who sat next to the drum kit, glaring daggers at his ex-girlfriend as she walked in the room.

Quinn took her seat next to Rachel, and she didn't miss the way the brunette shifted slightly in her seat to almost turn away from her and talk to Kurt who sat on her other side.

"What the hell did you do?" Santana asked, peering over her shoulder at the two girls.

"Just a difference in interest, S. I'll fix it."

"Yeah, you better." And then she turned her attention back to Brittany who was sat in her lap. She knew that Santana was warning her, she knew that Rachel was probably the best thing to ever happen to her. She'd slapped the Latina up the back of the head enough times, metaphorically of course, because she didn't want to have two killers on her tail, about Brittany. Santana was only returning the favour, and she knew then that the Latina was just a softie when it came to Rachel Berry.

"Baby…?" Quinn whispered, leaning closer to Rachel.

"Yes, Quinn?" Rachel asked, giving her attention to her girlfriend. She didn't miss the way Kurt's eyebrows skyrocketed at the term of endearment, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"I'm sorry about earlier, I really wish I could take you with me…but…y'know."

"I know what, Quinn?"

The blonde sighed, and gently nudged her girlfriend with her shoulder, "Please don't be angry at me."

Rachel stared for what seemed like hours, but could have been only a few seconds - she felt uncomfortable, awkward, she just wanted to look away. But eventually Rachel nodded, "Okay, but you owe me."

"I'll do whatever you want me to," She replied with a beaming smile.

"Excellent! There's a showing of Wicked at the Children's Community Theatre next week, you'll be joining me!"

Well shit.

* * *

><p>Coach Sylvester's office was empty when she reached it - not even Becky was there, and Becky was always a permanent feature, but then again, Glee Club had run over by thirty minutes and the school was deserted. Maybe Coach had gone home - after all, Coach Sue Sylvester waited for no one.<p>

Quinn circled the desk once, glancing down at Sue's closed journal and half tempted wanted to open it - but then again, the thought of going into Sue Sylvester's mind, made her want to claw out her own eyeballs so she gave it a miss. She circled back to the front of the office and turned to face the desk, hands on her hips, "What's the point?" She asked herself through a shrug.

She was about to pull the PAD out of her jeans pocket when she heard a slight rustle behind her - she swirled and jumped back hitting the back of her head on her coach's old desk. It took a second for the fuzziness to fade, but as she looked up, she saw Sue Sylvester stood before her, one of the trophies that _she_ had helped her win, raised above her head, ready to strike.

"Coach! What the hell!" Quinn screamed, staggering to her feet. Was the room meant to be spinning like that? She was about to run for the door, somehow trying to get past the domineering coach on the way, before the Nationals trophy from 2010 was dropped to the ground, a part of the treasured award snapping off.

"I can't do it anymore…" Sylvester whispered harshly, hands clutched into fists before her, "I can't."

"Are you…?" Quinn swallowed, trying to fight back the urge t be sick, "Are you the one that's been trying to kill me?"

Sylvester shook her head, defeated, "No…" She circled around Quinn and sat down at her desk, almost collapsing in a heap into her seat, "I've tried a couple times but…"

"Why?" Quinn glared down angrily at her ex coach, she braced her hands on the desk, leaning forward, "Tell me why!"

"My sister…she's been ill recently." Sue tilted her head back, neck resting on the back of her chair, "I went to visit her, but one of the idiotic people at the care centre told me that someone from the family had discharged her to take her home. I'm her only family."

Quinn continued to stare, watching as her old coach looked up at her, her face exhausted, "I got a call two days later from someone telling me that if I wanted to see my sister again I'd have to kill you." Sue leaned forward, "You understand, Quinn…my sister is the only family I have left. I would die for her."

"So my life meant nothing, as long as you got your sister back?" Quinn shouted back venomously.

"I won't apologize, because you would do the same thing." Quinn made no reply, and Sue smiled half heartedly, "Family ties are much stronger than you think, Q."

"The guy…" Quinn sighed, "The guy who called you, who is he?"

Sue shook her head, "I don't know, he just told me what to do and hung up."

"He didn't give you a name? What did he sound like? Did he sound old, young? What?"

"I don't know, Quinn!" Sue roared, raising from her seat in a fit of fury, and for one second, Quinn thought Sue would try to end her life again, "I just… " Then Sue rushed over to the door, slammed it shut and then shut the blinds, "He put my sister on the phone, I heard her and that's all the confirmation I needed."

Quinn sighed, head dropping in defeat, "How many times have you tried?"

"The gym fire and today, that's all." Sue crossed over to her trophy cabinet and fingered a trophy with the tip of her index finger, "The guy…whoever the hell he was told me that you had a device that allowed you to come back. I must admit, Q…you're quite hard to kill."

"So…you didn't shoot me…or stab me, or even poison me?"

Sue's brow furrowed, "No…I did none of that." Her coach turned, and for one second she saw compassion in those eyes, "Understand that I did it because of my sister, not out of spite."

"If I was in your position…" Quinn shook her head, "I'd have done the same thing, Coach."

The older woman nodded, "It looks like I won't be getting my sister back," Her voice sounded so weak and defeated, it almost broke Quinn's resolve.

"I'm going to find this guy Coach," Quinn took a step toward Sue, "I'll find him and I'll get your sister back, and I'll end this."

"You will?"

"I wasn't your Head Cheerio for nothing, Coach. I'm determined as hell when I set my mind to something."

The comment made Sue chuckle, and Quinn knew she couldn't hide any malice for the older woman. Sue was connected so closely with her older sister - just like she was with her mother, or her sister…even Rachel. She would have done the exact same thing.

"You can call the police if you want," Sue took a seat back at her desk, picking up her reading glasses, "I'll understand."

Quinn shook her head, "You did what you had to do, and what proof do I have to give? I'm still here, right?"

Sue smiled and glanced up at her ex Captain, "Right."

"If you hear anything else, tell me, okay? At least I know he's a guy now, I can narrow my search down to 50% of the world's population."

"I wish I could give you more information, Q. But we never spoke long enough for me to get anything out of him."

The blonde nodded, pulling her PAD from her pocket, "I need to go, I have things to do."

"Alright," She watched as her best cheerleader walked to the door, and then stopped her, "Q, the only thing I can say is that he spoke weird."

The younger girl glanced over her shoulder, eyebrow raised, "Spoke weird?"

"I can't explain it, which isn't Sue Sylvester's style." Sue shook her head, "He just…sounded awkward."

Quinn nodded, "Thanks Coach," She opened the door, "So you won't try to hurt me again, right?"

"You're my only hope now, Quinn."

* * *

><p>Part of her wanted to go back and slap Sue Sylvester right around the face, but another part of her kept saying that Sue did what she had to do. She knew how deep the connection ran between Jean and Sue - she'd seen it first hand when she went back to 1994. She knew it was stupid to let it go so easily, but if she wasted more time on conflict between a person who really didn't know anything, she knew she wouldn't get anywhere.<p>

God, she was 17 and she had the mentality of a forty year old. She really was becoming her mother.

She used the choir room to sit down for a little piece a quiet, the PAD still clutched in both hands. She really didn't have the energy to go back in time, and honestly, she just wanted to go home and spent time with her mom and sister. She wanted to see Rachel, she just wanted to hold her girlfriend, just for a little while.

"Fuck," She whispered to herself, dropping her forehead to her knees, a few stray tears escaping her eyes. This wasn't good, she was feeling overwhelmed - she'd made a huge step by finding out that Sue was hired by some guy to kill her, but she felt as if she'd taken two steps back with the fact she was no closer to finding this guy. The only clue she had was that he spoke weirdly, and that was half the population as it was.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

**"Problem?"**

Quinn's head snapped up, she sniffled and wiped away her tears. Homunculus was sat on the grand piano before her, legs crossed daintily, arms braced behind him as he leaned back slightly.

"You could say that," Quinn muttered, "I just found out my Coach tried to kill me."

**"She only tried to kill you twice, Quinn. She is not the killer you seek - she is simply a puppet, ordered by your real killer.**

"I know that now," Quinn sighed and slid back in her seat, legs stretched out inside her, "I just feel like I'm going around in circles. How the hell am I suppose to find him? I don't even know who the hell he is." The blonde choked on a sob, "I just want my life back."

**"The Philosopher's stone."**

Quinn looked up weakly, "What?"

**"The Philosopher's stone is the key to finding your killer, Quinn. It's the reason I asked you to find it."**

She didn't miss the gleam in his eye, or the way it made something inside her clench with fear.

"How did you know she tried to kill me twice…?" Quinn shot up in her seat, "You're keeping things from me! Tell me everything you know!"

Homunculus chuckled,** "Quinn, I know about your coach because I heard your conversation with her. I know nothing, just like you."**

"I think you're lying."

The being shrugged gently, then dropped off the piano, **"Believe what you will, Quinn. Just know that the sooner you find the Philosopher's stone, the sooner this ordeal will end."**

"To say you know nothing, you know a lot about what will happen if I find this stupid stone."

They stared at one another, and Quinn smirked, "Liar."

The air around Homunculus began to shift, and a deep shade of red permeated from his body. The air seemed to tremble around him, and Quinn knew he was going to pull a disappearing act. **"Have fun, Quinn."**

"Fucker."

* * *

><p>She knocked lightly on the door and took a step back, clutching her hands behind her back. She was nervous and she didn't know why, she'd been in the house all the weekend - it wasn't like she was a stranger.<p>

Aaron Berry came to the door, glasses perched on the lower bridge of his nose, newspaper in his free hand, "Ah, Quinn. Come in."

She nodded with a slight smile, walking in and allowing Aaron to shut the door behind him. "May I speak with you for a moment…?"

All she could do was nod again, following the man into the living room where he made her take a seat on the couch. He dropped his newspaper on the coffee table before her, "Don't panic, I'm not going to berate you," He chuckled gently.

"Oh," She laughed slightly, "Okay. What's up?"

"Well, something has been niggling at me recently. For the life of me, I can't remember where I've seen you before." He scratched the top of his head, "Of course, I know you went to school with Rachel, but I feel as if I've known you longer than that, even in passing."

"Well…I lived in a different part of Lima…maybe you saw me and my parents there?"

She gulped, she knew this was going to come back to haunt her. Why oh why did she go back to 1994 and track down the Berry fathers?

"No…no, that's not it." He perched on the edge of the coffee table, and tilted his head slightly as he regarded her, "It was when Rachel was a baby…but you looked exactly as you do right now."

"O-Oh?" She coughed to clear her throat, "I really wouldn't know…I mean, I am only seventeen."

"Hm," He mumbled, his lips pursed. He opened his mouth to say more, but the bounding of his daughter's feet on the stairway made him pull back and glance up at her, "Honey, Quinn is here."

"I see that dad." She smiled, "Hi, Quinn."

"Hey," She replied, still a little shaken from her conversation with Aaron.

"I'll leave you two alone," He rose from the table, grabbed his newspaper and disappeared toward the back of the house, "No funny business you two, these walls are paper thin."

"Dad!" Rachel shrieked, hearing her father chuckle as he disappeared behind his office door. "Sorry about that," She took a seat beside her girlfriend, kissing her gently on the cheek, "What did he say to you?"

"Ah, nothing."

"Was he asking about your intentions toward me…?" She chuckled, "Don't take him too seriously, Quinn, my dad is really a puppy dog, it's my daddy you'll have to worry about, he's the protective one."

"Thanks for the heads up," Quinn smiled gently.

"So…you've finished your business…? You're okay?" The brunette asked, taking Quinn's hands in hers.

"Oh! Uh, no actually. I was wondering…if you wanted to come with me? I know I said earlier on that I didn't…but I'd really like you there. If…you think you can deal with it, that is."

"You mean not freak out," Rachel whispered, looking down at her lap, "I'd rather be there, than not, Quinn. I'd prefer to be by your side if it happens, then worry myself stupid, not knowing if you're okay or not."

"I could die again, Rachel. You were effected by my death the first time, it could make you feel worse if you see it again."

"I'll survive." The brunette replied with a blazing intensity, "I want to come with you, Quinn."

The blonde nodded and rose from her seat, holding out her hand, which the brunette took immediately. "I found something else out too, I managed to knock the killer's apprentice off my list."

"Apprentice? There was someone else trying to…kill you…?"

Quinn nodded, "Yeah, it was Sue Sylvester."

Rachel stared at her girlfriend, mouth agape, "I'll sue her, no! I'll kill her! Oh my god, I'll take her to court and then I'll kill her! How dare she!"

"Rach, baby…" Quinn gripped the smaller girl by her shoulders and sighed, "She had her reasons, and they're reasons I understand." Rachel opened her mouth to retort, "Believe me, Sue Sylvester won't be hurting me again. I'm her only ally now."

"I still want to meet her in a dark alleyway. It would be so film noire."

The taller girl chuckled, "Of course baby, of course."

"So…she won't hurt you again?"

Quinn shook her head in the negative.

"Don't expect me to be nice to her when I see her in school, Quinn. You can't expect that of me."

"I know,"

"Okay," Rachel took a heavy breath and forced a smile, "So…travelling? Where to, McFly?"

Quinn smiled, leaned down and took Rachel's lips against hers, "1556."

Rachel smirked against her lips, "What happens to us to us there? Do we become assholes or something?"

The blonde pulled back and stared down at her girlfriend, who looked like she was about to combust with a barely hidden laughter. "Seriously, do you have an overused Back to the Future DVD that I'm not aware of?"

"That's for you to find out, McFly." She crushed her lips to Quinn's, moaning at the tongue on tongue contact, and then squealed when she felt herself being lifted from the ground, the air electrifying around them, the PAD pressing deliciously into her back.

Time for another adventure.


	14. Chapter 13

"Wow…" Rachel whispered as soon as the air around them began to shift into a sense of normality. They were in a deserted street, thankfully, they didn't want to attract attention by seemingly appearing in midair.

The singer beside the blonde twirled on the balls of her feet, taking in the architecture around her and gasping in awe as one person in dated clothing walked from around a corner and toward them, their hands full with bags of fresh fruit and vegetables.

"This is…so surreal." She gasped, and when she heard a light chuckle behind her, she turned and smiled, "What?"

"I'm just thinking about your reaction and what Santana's would have been." Quinn's shoulders shook with laughter, "God, I'm glad I wasn't around to see _that!."_

Rachel giggled, "I feel sorry for the people she was around - she must have been terrible to be around, especially with the fact she couldn't get it on."

Quinn snorted, "Okay, Marvin Gaye." The blonde took Rachel by the arm and dragged her toward a familiar location, "First things first, I need to talk to Dr. Russell."

"Dr. Who?"

"He'd be a bigger help, I'm sure."

"Wow, you really are a closet dork, aren't you?"

Quinn just smirked and continued, "Dr. Russell, he's the leading Alchemist in Lima. He's the one that wants me to find the Philosopher's stone and if I can believe what Homunculus told me, it's what will end this whole thing."

"I've heard of that before," Rachel whispered to herself, "It's the stone in, forgive me, Harry Potter, right?"

Quinn fought the urge to burst out laughing, but the way her lips pursed and shoulders shook wasn't missed by her girlfriend, "Yup."

"Isn't it used in the production of the elixir of life? What does Dr. Russell want with it?"

"I have no idea," Quinn shrugged, gently nudging Rachel down an alley that was a shortcut to the Alchemist's house, "He just told me he needed it for his project, but he wasn't willing to talk about it. I was hoping to find his case notes, but apparently he destroyed them for some reason."

"Where did you find that out?"

"My AP History teacher actually. Ms. Collins told me that if I was interested I should check up on an Alchemy book in the library, there was only one and obviously no one had taken it out because what kid wants to know about Alchemy? It said that Dr. Russell destroyed his case notes the day he disappeared, never to be heard from again."

"That's…very disturbing. He just disappeared?"

"Yeah, he did."

"Then why don't you tell him to not continue the project? Obviously something macabre is going to happen if he does continue."

Quinn shook her head, glancing up at the Alchemist's house that lay before her. She came to a stop at the front door and shook head gently, lowering her voice just in case someone was behind the door. "I can't…because that would re-write the timeline. I can travel wherever I want to, but I can't mess with anything. It could have a bad effect on the future."

"What's so bad for a man to continue living his life?" Rachel shook her head and before Quinn could continue, waved her hand toward the door, "Is this the house, McFly?"

The blonde nodded, "Yup." She knocked gently, then took a step back, pulling Rachel with her, "Manners. You don't want to be up in people's faces when they open the door."

"Okay, _mom_."

Quinn smirked, and then softened her face when the door slowly creaked open. A small brunette boy appeared behind the door, peering up at the two girls. Samuel. He looked exhausted, and for a child his age, the two girls knew that it wasn't a good sign. His skin looked chalky and pale, deep bags under his eyes, hair almost wilting.

"Samuel, hey." Quinn greeted, but the little boys eyes weren't on Quinn, they were on Rachel. The diva just smiled and crouched down, hands resting on her bent knees. "Is your mom in?"

Samuel just continued to stare at Rachel, completely avoiding Quinn's question. Rachel's smile slowly wilts away, as something in the boys eyes swirls. She can't quite describe it, but it's enough to set her teeth on edge.

"My mom is in the living room with my sister, come in." The boy finally pipes up, and Rachel's smile returns. The two girls enter the Russell abode and follow Samuel as he takes them to his mother.

Elizabeth is on the floor, legs crossed as she blows raspberry's on Mary's stomach. The tiny baby squeals with delight, and Rachel can't help but melt. She half wondered if Quinn would have been like that, had she kept Beth, but promptly disregards the idea when the older woman looks up.

"Quinn, dear, how nice to see you again!"

"Hey Elizabeth, I hope you don't mind that I brought a friend along."

"Not at all," The older woman rose to her feet, picking up her daughter at the same time, "Samuel, please take your sister upstairs and change her. Then bring her back down, I'd like to feed her."

The little boy nods, holding out his arms for his baby sister. The way Samuel holds his younger sister is beautiful, the way he cradles her tiny body, cupping the back of her head with a steady hand. The boy turns, smiles lightly up at Quinn and Rachel, then leaves the room.

"He's calmed down so much since your talk with my husband," Quinn's eyes went wide, "He actually came up from the basement and spent the day with Samuel and myself, he even held Mary." Elizabeth smiled wistfully, "Such a beautiful day."

"That's great news," And Rachel's just confused at the conversation - Quinn had actually been helping out the family? She looked up and regarded her girlfriend with shining eyes; she truly was a gift.

"So your friend…?"

Rachel snaps back to reality and puts on her show face, her Rachel Berry grin and extends her hand, "Rachel Berry, and it's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

Elizabeth smiles and blushes, "So well mannered, and it's a pleasure to meet you too, Rachel. I'm Elizabeth Russell."

"I'm actually here to speak to your husband, do you mind if I go down and talk to him?"

Elizabeth pulled her hand back from Rachel's, "Hm, I'm not sure. He sounds very busy down there lately, but I suppose you could try."

"Great," Quinn grinned, turning her attention to the brunette beside her, "You stay up here, I'll only be a minute."

And for one second, Rachel was sure Quinn was going to lean down and kiss her. The blonde made to lean down, but then realized she was with company, and patted the smaller girl's shoulder instead. She almost felt like a jock when the hand, suddenly heavy, descended upon her tiny shoulder.

* * *

><p>It was so warm in the basement, so much so that Quinn felt a sheet of sweat on her forehead when the back of her hand passed past it. Dr. Russell was stood at one of the tables, pushed up against the back wall. His head was bowed, shoulders hunched as he fingered through paper upon paper that lay strewn over the desk.<p>

"Dr. Russell…?" Quinn called out gently, hoping not to shock the man. His head shot up, and quickly he turned, a giant smile on his face.

"You have it?" He asked, taking a belated step forward, "The stone, you found it?"

When she shook her head, the doctor's face dropped significantly - his face went back to being drawn and tired, and with a sigh he turned to return to his week.

"But I do have an idea of where it could be," Quinn continued, staying on the bottom step, mostly out of fear; who knows what she could knock over and destroy, Cecil would have a fit and probably throw her out of the house, and where would that leave her? "I'm not 100% certain, but I'm trying my hardest."

"It's been two weeks since you last showed up here, where have you been?" He asked, mumbling over his shoulder.

"I've been busy, searching." Quinn bit the corner of her bottom lip slightly, "But I swear, I'll track it down."

"Why are you adamant about helping me?" Dr. Russell asked, turning to face her once more, "Do you plan to keep the stone for yourself, is that why?"

"No." She sighed gently, "If I'm being honest, I was told to find the stone for you. It could help me…with my own problems."

"Who told you to help me?" He asked gruffly, eyebrows furrowed, "Samuel…he's probably spreading information about my project."

"Your son had nothing to do with it," Quinn took a step forward, hoping to get closer to the elusive doctor. He seemed to hesitate when she moved, but made no move to stop her, "You do something with that stone, and it stops what's happening to me."

"How do you mean?"

Could she honestly tell him what was going on? He was an Alchemist - a man of science - would he really believe what she had to say? He seemed interested, achingly so, the way his eyes gleamed, dying for the new information.

"I uh…I can't really go into details, but please…believe me when I say I'm close. I know I'm close to finding the stone."

His shoulders slumped, "If you find the stone, I will truly be in your debt…" Slowly he turned back to his work, body hunching over the streams of paper, "I do not understand your intentions, but I believe you when you say they're pure."

"That's all I ask."

* * *

><p>"So…Quinn and yourself? Have you been friends long?"<p>

Rachel smiled, taking the mug of water from Elizabeth as she walked back into the living room. "Thank you. We've known each other for a long time, but only recently we became friends."

"Oh?" The older woman placed Mary in her lap as she sat, bobbing the baby gently on her knee, "How so?"

The singer laughed gently, "We didn't really see eye to eye. She thought I was overbearing…most people that I know still do."

"You seem calm to me." Elizabeth replied, confusion lacing her tone. She just didn't realize that the only reason why Rachel was so calm was the fact that she had no idea what to do or say. She was in a completely different time. Sure, the 1960's was a different time, but this was a completely different era. 1556 was just crazy - it still baffled her how someone could travel so far back with no ramifications.

"I'm overbearing with my singing…and my attitude towards it." Rachel amended, trying to make Elizabeth see her argument.

"Oh you sing…?" Elizabeth smiled when the young girl nodded, "My daughter loves the sound of singing; I sing to her every time I put her down to rest…which would be around now. Would you…?"

"Would I…?" Rachel asked, pulling the mug away from her lips, the warm water dressing her full lips.

"Sing. For my daughter. I'm sure she would adore it."

"O-Oh…I couldn't! I wouldn't know what to sing."

Elizabeth smiled and glanced over Rachel's shoulder, instantly brightening when Quinn walked back into the room, "Did he happen to talk to you?" She watched as Quinn took a seat beside Rachel, bumping their shoulders gently together. The older woman didn't miss the way Rachel's cheeks flushed with a gentle blush.

"Yeah, I just needed to update him on something," Quinn replied, grinning up at Elizabeth, "How have you been anyway? Has he come up from the basement at least?"

"He emerged from his lair two days ago," Elizabeth chuckled, teasing the tip of Mary's nose with her index finger, "He's getting better, he seems in higher hopes than over the past few months."

"Things are looking up?" Quinn smiled, and Rachel was lost again. Suddenly, she felt so out of her depth, and the realization dawned on her. She was having a conversation with someone who died hundreds of years ago, who shouldn't really be talking to her or Quinn; it was surreal to say the least, and how Quinn dealt with the situation completely blew her mind.

She knew the blonde was confident, but this was just off the scale.

"Yes, finally."

"Great," Quinn beamed, "But we should be going, lots to do and not enough time to do it in," She glanced at Rachel from the corner of her eye, and automatically Rachel rose to her feet, "You take care of yourself, eh?"

Elizabeth smiled up at the two girls, "You too."

* * *

><p>"So where are we going now?" Rachel asked, following Quinn behind the Alchemist's house. The blonde fished out the PAD, flipping it between two hands, "Travelling?"<p>

"We need to go to 1572. The town hall burns down to the ground that year, wiping out all the records of the Philosopher's stone. I need to find those records, for Doctor Russell and myself."

Rachel cocked her hip, her left hand automatically going to it, "I don't understand. Why do you need to find this Philosopher's stone? Why is it such a big deal?"

Quinn shrugged helplessly, "I really don't know, Rach. Homunculus told me that it's the only way I can get out of this alive. I'm willing to take anything he tells me right now."

"I don't trust him," Rachel muttered, crossing her arms protectively over her chest, "He sounds like he's put you in the middle of some plan…I don't like it at all."

"Look, I don't like it either. He's not telling the truth about some things," Rachel opened her mouth, "I don't know what!" Quinn added hastily, "But I can tell that he needs me to find this stone, and if it stops me getting killed, I'll find it."

"I still don't like this one bit…"

Quinn smiled softly and pecked Rachel on the tip of her nose, "Me either, but it's gotta be done."

* * *

><p>An inferno would only be putting it lightly, and also would the term 'headless chickens'. They'd made it to 1572, just off the town square. The town hall, a building that once stood, a pillar for the townspeople, was now engulfed in a roaring fire that blazed with a roaring heat.<p>

People watched on helplessly, screaming, shouting for help, as they watched the hall slowly burn. Windows popped from the intensity of the heat, stones crumbled where they were set, the door that once stood proudly, only bitter ash and flakes of roasted wood.

Children cried, clung to the dresses of their mother's that could only stand and stare.

"Are…people still in there…?" Rachel asked with a weak voice from beside Quinn.

As the blonde scanned the crowd, she couldn't help but sigh. One man was barely being held back by two law enforcement officers, and another was pinned to the ground by a stocky looking man.

"I…" Quinn shook her head, and fought off the shudder that her body wanted to give. It felt as if her body knew, knew that someone was still in that burning inferno. It was sickening, and the fact that she could do something about it, just pissed her off mightily. "Don't want to think about it."

The PAD…she had the fucking PAD why couldn't she just save those people's lives? What harm would come to the survival of someone? Is it so wrong to want to protect someone who had no right to die? The fire was deliberate, that much was known, that person wasn't suppose to die.

Homunculus told her from day one not to mess with the time line; that it could have ramifications in the future. It was complete bullshit. She had the power but she couldn't use it.

"We should just go, we can't do anything here." Quinn mumbled bitterly, hand already reaching for the PAD.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asked gently, taking the blonde's hand, thumb brushing gently over the knuckles.

Quinn glanced at Rachel, then to the crowd and sighed, "I'm fine."

Then something, there, in an alleyway between two houses - a tall girl, clutching an old an battered book to her chest, staring up at the town hall with what looked like fear in her eyes.

"That girl…" She whispered, almost to herself.

"Girl?" The brunette followed Quinn's eye line, and rose an eyebrow when she landed on the girl, "Who is she…? Do you know her?"

Quinn nodded, "That's Mary."

Mary was sixteen, but she looked a lot older. Her hair was limp, lifeless, eyes no longer holding the quirky shine they held as a child. Her body language was just off for a girl her age, instead of carefree and bursting with confidence, she was withdrawn and hunched - shielding herself away from the people around her.

"She looks so sad…" She heard Rachel whisper beside her, "I'm going to talk to her…" Quinn barely had time to register what Rachel had said, her eyes still zoned in on the girl across the square.

Only when she felt Rachel brush past her, her hand shot out and clasped over Rachel's wrist, pulling the smaller girl back, "You can't." She shook her head and emended, "We can't."

"And why not?" Rachel asked, pulling back her arm, "That girl looks so withdrawn, Quinn. So lonely."

"I know that…but…" Quinn huffed out a breath, "I already met her, in the future, when she's twenty four. If I meet her now, it'll mess up the time line, and I really don't want to do that right now on top of everything else that's going wrong."

Rachel just stared at her, brow furrowed and then with a whip of brown hair, looked over her shoulder at the girl that adjusted the book in her hands and then turned to walk down the alley. She felt so drawn to the girl, if what Quinn said was correct, it was the tiny baby cradled in her mother's arms that she'd seen only minutes before.

It unnerved her. And freaked her out royally.

"Too late now," Quinn sighed with relief, "Let's go."

Rachel bit her lip, nodded and turned back to face Quinn, "Go ahead."

If Quinn noticed the radical change in her mood, she didn't mention it.

* * *

><p>One day before, that's all they needed. The town hall was a hive of activity, not an ember or flame in sight. Quinn took a deep breath for relief, "Thank God." She looked over her shoulder at Rachel, "Ready to search?"<p>

Rachel nodded, all but storming off toward the building in question. Quinn stood there, and watched as the diva stormed across the square and only stopped halfway up the stairs to turn and catch sight of her.

With an impatient roll of her eyes, she gestured Quinn to follow. The blonde wanted to say something; why Rachel was being so weird all of a sudden, but shrugged her shoulders and walked across the square to meet her waiting girlfriend.

"So what do we ask for exactly? If they have the Philosopher's stone here?"

Quinn shrugged her shoulders, "We can't be too forward about it. Maybe they have a file or something, you know, detailing where it is?"

Rachel tucked a stray lock of brown hair behind her ear, "We can only travel around Lima, right?"

Quinn nodded.

"What if it's not in Lima? What if it's in Africa in an underground mine or perhaps locked up in a safe in Northern Russia?"

"I…" Quinn bit the corner of her lip, "Well, my teacher told me that it's last recorded location was somewhere in Lima."

"That's what your teacher said, and you know how most Historians are, Quinn. While, I admit, some are spot on with their historical references, some are less than stellar. Are you sure you want to take the word of a High School History teacher over cold hard facts?"

"Rach, there are no cold hard facts. It's like searching for the Hindenburg baby." Quinn watched as Rachel's eyebrow rose slowly, and she couldn't help but smirk at how it mirrored her own, "Bad analogy, but what I'm saying is, I'd rather take the word of someone who _may _know something about it, over walking into a situation blind."

Rachel nodded, "Okay. Shall I ask, or you?"

Quinn chuckled, "If you're like anything the way you acted toward that poor Broadway ticket office guy, I think I should ask."

"What are you implying, Quinn?"

Oh no, the hands were on the hips.

"Nothing, nothing babe. C'mon, we got a Philosopher's stone to find."

They headed toward the front desk (luckily it wasn't the same pervert from when she was looking for Santana) and an old gentleman in his early sixties looked up from he was sat, "Can I help you two?"

"Yeah, I mean yes," She cringed and clenched her fists when she heard a giggle and the mutter of 'smooth' behind her, "I was wondering if you had any records on the Philosopher's stone I could look at?"

Slowly he leaned back in his seat, "The Philosopher's stone? Why would you want to know about such a thing?"

Quinn did the perfect impression of a fish.

"It's for school," Rachel butted in, moving around Quinn to face the man, "We're learning about it in school and we really want to get the best grade possible. Learning means a lot to the both of us!"

Quinn's head slowly craned toward the diva, and ever so slowly tilted her head to the side, a look of 'what the fuck are you talking about' throwing daggers from her eyes.

"Ah, well it's good to come across children like yourself that like to invest in their schooling!" He grinned a buck toothed grin, and both girls smiled, Quinn a little forced, "But…aren't you a little old to be still in school?"

"Quinn's tall for her age."

Quinn bit her lip, and gently muttered, "And you're a midget for your age."

Rachel's head snapped toward Quinn, and with a look that could make someone melt to the floor, Quinn stepped back in a move that was entirely correct.

"Oh, well…if you give me a few minutes, I'll retrieve the file for you two girls?"

"Of course, we'll be right here." Quinn watched as the man stood and disappeared behind a sturdy double door to his left, "Well, that was easy."

"Midget, huh?"

Quinn sighed to herself, "Babe…I didn't mean it, I was just kidding around."

"Oh no, your 'babe' privileges are hereby revoked."

Quinn's jaw dropped, "Are you putting me in the doghouse?"

"If you're lucky I won't put you in a Kennel, Quinn."

"What happened to McFly?"

"Revoked."

"Psh." The blonde crossed her arms tightly over her chest, "Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine, it's not like I wanted you to call me McFly anyway."

"Then why mention it…?"

"I…shut up."

"You shut up."

"You."

"You."

"And here we go!" The man beamed, carrying a small file in his hands, "It's all I could find I'm afraid, will this be enough for you two?"

"More than enough," Quinn beamed, all but trying not to rip the file from the man's hands, "Thanks."

"I'm afraid I can't let you take the file out, it must be returned to it's proper place as soon as you've searched what you wanted."

"Oh…" She glanced down to the file, then to Rachel and then back to the man, "Sure."

Rachel took the file from her hands and flipped it open, "Uh, Quinn?"

"Yeah?"

Quinn glanced down at the folder and blanched, the pieces of paper that were once kept safe in the folders were now torn into tiny individual pieces. When Quinn snatched it from her girlfriend's hands, several fluttered to the ground and littered the floor at their feet.

"No…no…no!"

Rachel's hand went instinctively to her girlfriend's back, "It's okay."

"It's not okay, Rach. This was the only thing that could save my-," Her eyes shot to the man, "Project. My project."

"We can come back another day, right?"

"Huh?"

"_Another day." _Rachel pressed, eyeing the PAD that sat dormant in her pocket.

"O-Oh!" Quinn smiled and handed the file back to the man, "Sorry, but the file seems to be destroyed."

"Funny…I'll have to speak to one of the Lord's about this. Excuse me one moment."

"Why was the file destroyed…?" Rachel asked, watching the man go.

"I think it has to do with my killer. Obviously he doesn't want to me to see the file, or the whereabouts of the Philosopher's stone."

"But why?"

"The Philosopher's stone will save my life, I don't know how, but it does. Obviously the killer is one step ahead of me. We need to get that file before it's destroyed."

"Couldn't agree more, McFly."

"Oh, so it's McFly now?" Quinn asked with a smirk.

"I'm giving you back your nickname privileges, but you're Istill/I in the doghouse."

Quinn sighed, pulling out the PAD, "The doghouse sucks."

* * *

><p>"Elizabeth, I was wondering if you knew anything about the records that are kept at the Town Hall?"<p>

Elizabeth smiled cheekily, "Well hello to you too, Quinn. Rachel. Why don't you both come in?"

Both Samuel and Mary were upstairs in bed already, and only then did Rachel notice that it was beginning to get dark. Elizabeth sat opposite them, crossed her legs and sipped the water from the mug in her hand, "What's this about records?"

"Well, we need to get our hands on a file from the record area in the town hall. We were wondering if you knew anything about them?"

"Well the records are fairly new, it was only added to the hall two months ago." She took another sip of her water, "From what I heard no citizen is allowed entrance to the files - they could go missing you see."

"Fu-," Quinn shot her eyes to Rachel and then to Elizabeth, "Fudge. Fudge." She cleared her throat anxiously, "Uhm, do you know a way into the records area? We really need to get our hands on a file."

"I have no idea, Quinn, I'm sorry." Elizabeth placed her cup gently on the table before her, "But I do know some of the Lords that reside at the hall, thanks to my husbands connections? I could speak to one of them in the morning for you, to see if they will get you the file you need?"

Quinn grinned, "That'd be fantastic, seriously."

Rachel smiled, "Why in the morning? It's only seven thirty, isn't it?"

"Well yes, but the Lords don't usually take an audience after four pm. You're welcome to stay the night if you have no where to stay. I'll be out of the door first thing in the morning, so I guarantee by the time you get up I'll have some information for you two girls."

"I ah…" Quinn blushed, "We really wouldn't want to overstay our welcome. We were just going to walk around the square some more."

"Oh no, you can't." Elizabeth shook her head gently, "There's a strict curfew settled on ever citizen of Lima, everyone has to be behind locked doors by eight pm sharp. I can't allow you to go out there when you could most definitely get in trouble."

"We…wouldn't want to intrude," Rachel replied gently.

"Oh don't be silly, it'll be nice for you two girls to stay. And Quinn, after everything you've done for my family, this is the least I can do for you."

Quinn smiled and glanced at Rachel, who nodded, "Sure, we'd love to Elizabeth. Should we take the couch?"

"Foolishness," Elizabeth replied with a grin, standing up from her seat, "I'll have Samuel sleep with me tonight, and you can take his bed. I'm afraid it's a little small, and you'd have to share. Would you two girls be comfortable sharing a bed with one another…?"

Quinn and Rachel's head snapped to one another, and as a deep red blush enveloped both their cheeks, Elizabeth chuckled, "I could arrange a blanket for the floor if you'd prefer?"

"No." Rachel butted in, her face still engulfed with a blush, "Sharing a bed would be fine, more than fine."

"I-I…y-yeah…sure…" Quinn stuttered, finally pulling her attention away from her girlfriend. Why did she suddenly feel like she'd spontaneously combust? It wasn't just her face that was warm, her body felt as if it would spark alight with a simple touch.

"We could sneak out and use the PAD while she's upstairs."

"I ah…nah, we should rest. I'm tired anyway."

Rachel ducked her head, teasing the hem of her skirt with both hands, "Are you sure?"

"That I'm tired…?" Quinn replied dumbly, "Yeah."

"Oh, okay."

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry the bed is so small girls. Neither me nor Cecil have managed to get around to getting a new bed for Samuel."<p>

"He's a growing boy," Quinn grinned.

"Growing everyday," Elizabeth chuckled, straightening out the sheets, "It's shocks me by how much, sometimes." The older woman turned to them and smiled, "You two girls will be fine sharing?"

"Oh of course, Mrs. Russell, both Quinn and I are see-,"

Quinn elbowed her girlfriend gently in the ribs and plastered a fake smile, "Seething. Seething with excitement to go to sleep. We're both pretty beat," And by God she even faked a yawn that looked like she was swallowing a lorry.

Rachel huffed and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. Noting the shift in attitude between the two girls, Elizabeth took her leave with a goodnight and a promise of information in the early morning.

The brunette ripped back the covers and sat down on the edge of the bed, ripping her Mary Jane's from her feet.

"What are you moody about now?"

"Nothing, Quinn."

"So I'm back to Quinn now?"

Rachel made no reply, and after placing her shoes neatly in front of the bedside table, she slid into the bed and faced the wall, all but channelling her girlfriend out.

With a sigh, Quinn pulled off her own shoes and climbed into bed, turning her back to Rachel.

The laid in silence, until Quinn glanced over her shoulder, "Goodnight, Rach."

"Why did you butt in? Why didn't you let me tell her we were seeing one another?"

Quinn groaned and slammed her cheek into her pillow, it smelt distinctly of boy and soap, "Do you really think lesbian's were a big thing back in 1556, Rachel? Seriously?"

"Do you really think she'd mind, Quinn?"

"I don't want to chance it. Would you rather we come out to her, then her completely freak out and not help us? I need to know where that stone is, Rach. It could save my life. I'd rather not take any chances when it comes to that."

"it just hurt…" She heard whispered gently behind her, and with a turn that made the bed squeak softly beneath both their bodies, Quinn wrapped her arm around Rachel's waist, pulling her against her.

"I didn't mean for it to hurt, Rach." Quinn pressed a kiss gently to the back of Rachel's neck.

"Are you embarrassed about me or something?" Rachel shuffled in her arms and turned around, pressing her forehead gently to the blondes, "It's just, I know I'm not cool, or popular and I'm so far down the bottom of the social ladder that Jacob Ben Israel is the only one remotely geekier than me…"

"Rach, do you really think I care about any of that?" Quinn nudged Rachel's nose with her own and smiled, "I'd shout it from the top of a mountain, babe. When I get back, I'll do just that."

The beaming smile that Rachel gave her made her heart melt in her chest, "I thought…you said you wanted to wait to come out though?"

"Waiting isn't an option, Rach. With what's happening to me, I don't want to hesitate from being who I really am, or admitting and showing my feelings to the people around me from a girl that takes me breath away."

Rachel ducked her head, and looked up at her girlfriend through thick eyelashes, "You mean that…?" She whispered desperately, and she sounded so unsure it made Quinn want to take back all those years of torture she'd bestowed upon the girl when she was a heartless bitch of a girl.

"I mean it, and more."

Then Rachel was in her arms, and clutching desperately at her back, trying with all her might to get closer to the blonde. When she felt the splashes of tears against her neck, Quinn smiled, "Are you okay…?" She whispered, gently running a hand through thick brown hair.

"M-More than…"

Quinn smiled and pulled back, placing gently kisses to Rachel's forehead, both eyes, down the bridge of her nose, both cheeks and then finally setting on her mouth.

"Let's go to sleep, okay? We have a long day tomorrow."

Rachel smiled, "Of course…" She wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand, "Goodnight, McFly."

The brunette leaned in and kissed Quinn gently, chastely, sweetly.

Quinn smiled into the kiss and mumbled against plump lips, "G'night Rach."

And then something changed. Their lips sought out one another, and Rachel's fingers dug deeply into Quinn's back, all but trying to tear the girl's shirt from her body. As moans filled the silent room, Quinn flipped her girlfriend over, leaning over Rachel's scorching body as she added her tongue into the mix.

Their tongue duelled for dominance, and the gentle rocking of Rachel's hips against hers made her feel dizzy. It was intoxicating, and oh so addicting. The way Rachel explored every inch of her mouth had her on tender hooks, the way the singer's tongue danced across her own tongue, to the roof of her mouth, across teeth and then repeated.

Rachel's back arched into Quinn when the blonde took the initiative and bit down on a plump lower lip. She always had an addiction to Rachel's lips, and how she hadn't noticed sooner was a mystery. The way she always stared at them when the girl stood in front of everyone and sang her heart out, the way she rambled and demanded the best of the people around her.

God, this woman was intoxicating. And the way the girl's thigh moved up to push between her own legs, had her gasping for air. She ripped her lips away from Rachel's swollen ones and gasped for breath, "Rach."

"Hm...?" The girl all but mumbled, leaning up on her elbows to litter kisses up and down Quinn's neck, only stopping for a second to bite on an earlobe.

"W-We can't do this...n-not here, not now..."

"Why...?" Rachel whined, pulling back. Only then did she notice the way Rachel's eyes were dilated. Her pupils were blown, her cheeks flushed, chest heaving for air that it desperately needed.

"I think...we should wait...and I really don't want to make love to you in 1556, Rach."

Rachel sighed gently and lowered her poised thigh, "I understand...I'm sorry I got so carried away."

Quinn smirked and rolled onto her back, pulling Rachel against her side, "Believe me, I enjoyed it."

"Then why stop me!"

The blonde just laughed, "Goodnight, Rach."

"You are so staying in the doghouse, McFly."

* * *

><p>"Hello girls, how did you sleep?" Elizabeth asked, bright eyed and bushy tailed from the kitchen, with Mary perched on her hip.<p>

"Like logs, thank you so much for letting us stay Mrs. Russell."

"Please dear, call me Elizabeth. Young Quinn does and so you should too!"

Rachel blushed and took a seat on the couch, hand resting limply on Quinn's leg, "Thank you, Elizabeth."

"So…did you find anything out about the records?" Quinn asked, watching as the older woman dashed around the tiny kitchen like she was on a mission.

"I talked to one of the Lord's wives in the market this morning, charming woman she is. She told me she would arrange a meeting with her husband two hours from now."

Quinn blew out a sigh of relief, "Thank you so much Elizabeth, seriously, it means a lot."

The older woman smiled, "Anything I can do to help, now you girls sit tight, breakfast should be ready in just a second."

Quinn's stomach grumbled when she caught a whiff of something in the air, and Rachel's back tensed in reflex.

"Down girl," Rachel grumbled from the corner of her mouth.

Bacon.

* * *

><p>The Lord was a rather young looking man, in his early thirties, and the robe that he was wearing didn't even look like it fit his body. "Hello girls, my name is Lord Kramer. You two requested a meeting with me?" He asked from behind his desk (one of the cleanest desks that they'd ever seen actually, it put Miss. Pillsbury's OCD desk to shame.<p>

"Yes, we were wondering if you had an records available on the Philosopher's stone?"

His brow furrowed, "I'm sorry girls, but no such file exists. I would know, I was one of three Lords that put the whole record system into fruition."

"Are you sure? Could you at least check? You must have sifted through countless folders, maybe you forgot about that one."

With a sigh, his green eyes danced between the two helpless girls, "I'll check for you now, but I doubt highly that the files will be there. I would remember such a file."

"Thank you anyway," Rachel smiled gratefully.

"You two wouldn't happen to be apprentices of Dr. Russell's would you?"

Quinn shook her head, "It's for a school project."

The Lord nodded and grabbed a keychain from his desk drawer, it jangled loudly as heavy metal keys clacked against one another. There must have been at least thirty keys on the one key ring alone.

"I'll be back momentarily, just sit here."

"Thank you, Sir." Quinn replied politely, watching as he left.

It'd turned out to be a bust. Lord Kramer had come back twenty minutes later with no files in his hands. With an apology, he told the girls that no such file existed and that they'd have to look elsewhere for help with their school project. Begrudgingly, both girls agreed and left. What else could they do?

"If the files exist in 1572, how come they don't now? Were they magically added or something?" Quinn grumbled, sitting on the town hall steps, elbows digging painfully into her knees, chin propped up on the palms of her hand.

"Do you think Lord Kramer was lying?" Rachel asked softly from beside her, legs stretched out over three steps.

"Nah…he was telling the truth," Quinn sighed and shrugged, "I guess we need to try another time, well before the time we found them shredded, and after this time. Pick a time."

Rachel's head snapped to her girlfriends, "You want me to pick a year?"

"Better than sitting here."

"Uhm…well, before the time they were shredded, but long enough after this time…" Rachel ran the tip of her index finger slowly along her bottom lip, "I don't know, 1567?"

"1567 it is."

* * *

><p>"I'll never get used to that," Rachel muttered, hunched over as she fought back another wave of nausea. Quinn rubbed her back soothingly, but it couldn't help but set the singer's teeth on edge. Why was she effected by it and Quinn not? Was it because she was meant to travel alone?<p>

The feeling of projectile vomiting over the street past, and with a deep breath, she stood up tall once more, "Okay, it's gone."

"You sure?" Quinn asked, placing a gentle kiss to Rachel's temple. No one was around thankfully, and Rachel smiled when she felt her girlfriend's soothing kiss.

"Much," Rachel smiled up at the blonde, "Town hall?"

"Sure thing," Quinn replied with a cheeky smile. Never had she seen a smile light up Quinn's face as much, and she'd known the girl since before High School. When Quinn was Queen Bee and high strung head cheerleader, she always had the sense of profound distance around her; like she really wasn't invested emotionally in the things around her.

Things bounced off her back, she plastered fake smiles onto her face when her boyfriend placed a kiss to her cheek, or just kept herself hidden when emotions were involved. Quinn was hard to understand, and it was hard for Rachel to get used to such a drastic change.

The blonde had changed from distant and not really giving a care in the world, to this caring, sweet and gentle girl that just really wanted someone to stand be her. It was a shock to the system, and the fact that Quinn Fabray had chosen Iher/I, lowly Rachel Berry to be the one to stand by her. It meant a lot more than anyone could ever thing.

From Quinn's torture, she'd assumed she would always be a geek, at the bottom of the social ladder, the one that everyone teased and slushied. In a few weeks, all that had changed (sure she was still at the bottom of the social ladder) and now she had a girl that only wanted to make up for her past mistakes and make her _happy_.

Rachel beamed all the way to the town hall, but the smile slipped when Quinn all but froze mid step.

"Q?"

Quinn turned and dashed into an alleyway, just off the square, "Damn."

Rachel's back stayed pressed up against Quinn's front, the blonde's hands on her waist, "What's wrong? Why are we hiding?"

"I saw Mary, at least…I thought it was Mary."

"Lemme peak, McFly."

Hesitantly, Quinn let go of Rachel's waist, and watched as the singer turned and around the corner of the alley and into the open town square. Her doe brown eyes danced across the towns people, before finally settling on a teary brunette, wandering around the square, eyes wide, tears streaming down small cheeks, mouth open as she called out a familiar name.

"Samuel!"

Rachel bit her lip and turned to face Quinn, "She's shouting for her brother."

Realization dawned across the blonde's hazel eyes, and lazily, she wiped a hand down her face, "Damn. Mary's eleven in this time."

"So?"

"When I met Mary, when she was twenty four, she told her brother went missing when she was eleven. I just didn't realize."

The brunette glanced back toward the all but tiny girl as she circled the square helplessly, "We have to help her, we can't just leave her."

"Rachel, we can't. We have to let her find her own way, I refuse to mess with her time line."

Rachel shook her head, "Then don't. _I _will."

Quinn tried to grab the diva before she stormed off toward the square, but with a helpless groan she watched her girlfriend go and crouch before eleven year old Mary.

"God damn you, Rach." She sighed heavily, slamming the brick wall of the alley beside her with a clenched fist. It hurt like a bitch, but it made her feel better as she watched Rachel stand, take Mary's hand and walk her towards a patrolling official. "I swear to God, I'll kill you."

Rachel talked with the officer, and over his bulging stomach, his peered down at the small girl before him. Quinn couldn't hear a word they were saying, but the way the official slowly shook his head and took Mary's hand in his own beefy hand, made Rachel smile and take a step back.

"What have you done…?" Quinn sighed, smacking the back of her head against the brick wall behind her.

Rachel glanced around, her eyes finally stopping dead on the alley way that Quinn was_ still _hidden in. With a shake of her head, and a disgusted sigh that could mostly probably be heard from across the busy square, Rachel stormed off in the opposite direction.

"The hell…?" Quinn mumbled, watching as Rachel stormed toward Dr. Russell's old house. "Rach!" And she all but ran after the girl, bumping into a few people on a way, with a rushed apology, and begrudgingly helping to stop one woman pick up a bag full of food she'd dropped thanks to Quinn, the blonde finally caught up to her girlfriend who paced up and down the small street outside the Alchemist's house.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Quinn exclaimed, "You could have done something serious to the time line thanks to that! Mary wasn't suppose to be taken to an official by you; she found her own way!"

"Oh well I'm sorry Quinn," Rachel huffed, turning to face her enraged girlfriend. "I can't help it if I wanted to help an emotional eleven year old that really didn't know what was happening around her! Do you know what she said to me when I talked to her, Quinn? I asked her where her mommy and her daddy was…she told me they died. I asked her where her brother was, she told me he disappeared. How was I suppose to leave her like that?"

"She did it before, she could have done it again!"

"That's not the point! I helped her by handing her over to that official, and hopefully, something good will come out of that."

Quinn scoffed, "You honestly have no idea how any of this works, do you? You think that you do one good deed and it makes the world a better place? Well it doesn't!"

"Oh please, I just wanted to help her, not the world! Where were you, Quinn? You could have talked to her. She met you when she was in her twenties, I highly doubt she would have remembered you from being a newborn."

"Oh, so when I go back to when she's twenty four and she immediately mentions she saw me when she was eleven and I hadn't aged one bit, what would I say?"

"Why would you need to go back to that time?"

"I don't know, I didn't realize I'd have to keep coming back to 1556, but I had to keep doing it! Everything has consequences, Rachel, I can't just throw them out of the window for _one little girl!_"

"I can't believe you! Don't you have any motherly instincts at all, Quinn?"

Silence. The two stood face to face, chests heaving, faces flush, bodies pent up from the adrenaline of the fight. In her haze, Rachel was dimly aware of what she said, and what had Quinn staggering back, eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Oh my God…Quinn…I didn't mean that, I swear. I-I'm sorry." She made to step forward and take the blonde into her shaking arms, but Quinn batted them away. The blonde's head shook from side to side slowly, eyes narrowing with hurt.

"You know better than anyone…"

"I-I'm so sorry."

Then Quinn was moving, all but ripping the PAD from her pocket. She snatched Rachel's hand, slapping it down hard on the metallic device. Quinn's eyes shut, and as the blue light engulfed the two of them, she saw one lone tear trek down a pale cheek.

* * *

><p>"Please, Quinn, can we talk about this?" They were both in Rachel's house, and the brunette was sobbing for forgiveness as Quinn continued to stare at her. <em>"Please…" <em>She whispered desperately.

"I…" Her voice sounded so low, and Rachel couldn't help but shiver at the tone, "I can't talk to you right now. So I'm going to go back…and I'm going to find the files…and I'm leaving you here…because if I hear your voice…or look at you, I'm going to crack."

"Please, Q." The singer whispered through tears as she watched Quinn flip the PAD in her hand and shut her eyes, "McFly, please."

The blue haze that surrounded the blonde's body made her take a step back in reflex. She shielded her eyes as the haze grew, and only when it had disappeared, Rachel pulled her arm down and sobbed.

Quinn was gone.


	15. Chapter 14

How could she do that? How could she say that? Why did she mention the one thing that was taboo - off limits to her? Why the fucking hell did she have to say those damn words? It didn't make sense, Rachel had never been a spiteful person; she didn't have a bad bone in her body, but the way she said those words.

Full of venom, full of anger, full of hate. The tone alone could have ripped her to shreds, but the words, oh God the words, it just hurt twice as much. Quinn had tried to put a cap on the feelings about Beth ever since she let the little girl go to a new mother; a mother that could care for her, could teach her the rights and wrongs of life, to steer her onto the right path.

Not like her - she was still a little girl inside, no matter how much she wanted to deny it. Outside she was a young woman, bursting with energy and courage, but inside she was a scared little girl that just wanted to be held and have that voice in her ear telling her it would be okay.

That's why it hurt. Mary, the tiny girl that screamed and sobbed for her older brother, was her. Quinn cried for her daughter, begged for one last chance; but she knew she couldn't have it, just like Mary. So as she stared at the tiny brunette that wandered the town square like a lost soul, she couldn't help but think she was staring into a shiny new mirror.

Quinn wanted to help; oh God did she want to help - wouldn't anyone? You see a little girl wandering around crying for help, your first instinct would to go up and help right? She couldn't. The stupid timeline needed to be safe, and that's what meant more than a girl's happiness?

Mary turned out okay, she knew that much, but it wasn't much conciliation. Fuck the timeline, it could go to hell, and so could Homunculus, and so could the PAD, and so could that damn killer that wanted nothing more to wipe her off the face of the earth for no damn fucking reason!

In a rage, she stopped and kicked the cobbled wall for all it was worth. Her foot ached, but she kept going, slamming her foot into the sturdy brick. Fuck everything, why should she bother? Why should she bother trying to save her life when it was obvious it was meant to be snuffed out?

But no, Homunculus needed her to find the Philosopher's stone - a stone that might as well be in a watery grave in the Bermuda Triangle. One thing after another, one little thing after another was picking away at her patience.

Rachel Berry had just broken that patience, and her throbbing foot and tear strained cheeks were testament to that.

She was so lost, all from nine words that were thrown out in the midst of angry passion. Nine words that stripped her down and laid her bare for the world to see. No, she didn't like that; she didn't like being seen, she liked to remain hidden, to be in control of her emotions.

God damn, Rachel Berry. Damn you to hell and back.

With a shuddering sigh, Quinn pushed herself away from the wall, making sure to wipe away the remnants of her tears that refused to fall free anymore before continuing back to the town hall.

Mary would be gone now, starting her life at an orphanage without parents, without a brother - destined to a life alone. At such a young age too; what would it feel like, to be left alone at an age where the hardest decision you make in your life is if you want a red or yellow crayon to draw your picture with? How can one tiny child deal with the confusion, the hurt…that they'd been deserted by the people that loved them.

Beth…

Her heart ached painfully in her chest, and she knew it was only figurative. A heart could never hurt from heartbreak, it wasn't the simple drawing that every kid and teenager drew in their notebooks, it was an organ that sustained life; it wasn't there to hurt or feel elated when in love.

It was all figurative, everything in her life was. Popularity, the perfect grades, honor roll, once the Captain of a countless National wining cheerleading squad, the boyfriends…the girlfriend…

The only certainty was herself. She was here, she knew that much, although it didn't feel like much at the moment. Her feet seemed to not touch the ground as she walked, her body moved with its own free will, her mind drifted away into the warm afternoon breeze of 1567.

It all seemed worthless now, the struggle that had kept her going all these weeks. She'd lost countless lives, lost Santana through no fault of her own, got Santana back, gained a girlfriend, lost a girlfriend…

For fuck sake, why did everything come full circle straight back to Rachel Berry?

She stopped and kicked the dirt at her feet, not caring that people passed her with looks of pure facinations on their face. No, she wasn't crazy, fuck off, she felt like telling them. But what if she was? What if she dreaming all this?

On that night, walking home from school the first time, what if she crossed the road and got hit by a car? What if she was sat in a hospital bed, right now? Her mother at her side, one hand holding a tattered and battered copy of Pride and Prejudice, while the other held the stoic hand of her daughter.

Maybe she just needed to wake up - after all, time travel wasn't necessarily real, right? No one could hold the power to travel through time with the touch of a thin piece of metal and focused mind.

Had she knocked her head so hard, that the dream she had in her comatose mind, turned into riddle after riddle of events that held no meaning? Could she have dreamt meeting Charles, Mary, Dr. Russell, Elizabeth, Samuel? Losing Sam? Gaining Rachel?

Fuck, there she was again!

She stomped her foot and clenched her fists; she totally didn't need this right now. She didn't need to wonder if what she was going through was some comatose dream, or a figment of her imagination. What was happening now was real; all she achieved was real.

Thanks to her Santana had finally jumped head first out of Narnia and into Brittany's ever waiting arms, thanks to her Dr. Russell had something to strive for, thanks to her Elizabeth held onto hope that her ever working husband would emerge from the basement to hold their daughter, thanks to her Rachel had someone who cared for-

FOR GOD SAKE.

"Get out of my head, woman!"

**"Well well, it seems as if we're having some difficulty."**

Swerving on the balls of her feet, she came face to face with Homunculus, perched on a high wall. Quinn glanced at the citizen's of Lima, they just walked past as if they couldn't see a pale, red eyed figure perched on a church wall.

**"Do not worry, Quinn. They can't see me, or us for that matter. I've blanketed us."**

"Right." Quinn crossed her arms tightly over her chest, "So what are you doing here? You've been fine just ignoring me for the past few days, why come back now?"

**"I can hear your thoughts, Quinn. I came to steer you back on the right path."**

With narrowed eyes, Quinn ground out between gritted teeth, "I am on the right path, don't you dare presume I'm not."

**"Why so angry…?"** Homunculus asked, the corner of his lips upturning in a smirk that hardly looked charming; it just made her want to slap him. She looked away, suddenly disgusted with his presence, eyes drifting anywhere but the black clad figure before her.

**"You usually have something sarcastic to say to one of my comments, Quinn? Where has the fire gone?"**

"Okay, you know what!" Quinn dropped her arms, and then suddenly lost control of them. They swung everywhere has her patience snapped, "I'm doing this out of my own free will, okay? I could except death but I don't want to, I want to live. I'm seventeen and I want to live my life! But I'm sick of taking riddle after riddle with you; if you want me to survive so bad why don't you just point me in the right direction?"

"I'm not finished!" She shouted when Homunculus opened his mouth to respond - his eyes sparkled with mirth, and his mouth snapped shut, "You keep telling me I have to find the Philosopher's stone, and I'm trying, I'm trying so hard. I know you're not being a hundred percent honest with me and if I'm being completely honest, I think you know where it is, you just want to toy with me with the complete asshole you are!"

Okay, shit she needed to breath, her chest hurt.

"And!" She heaved one giant breath, "If you had any ounce of compassion for me and the life you want to 'save' so badly." She emphasised the save with two quotation marks and she couldn't help but feel as if she was turning into Ra-." Okay, seriously? "You would tell me where that damn stone is so I can get it and get back to _my_ damn life! I want my life back!" She choked back a sob, "I want it back!"

Homunculus uncrossed and crossed his legs again, and with a gesture that could put Kurt Hummel to shame, he brushed his bangs back, **"Are you quite finished, Quinn?"**

With a heavy sighed, she dropped her head and muttered a yes that could barely be heard.

**"I can't give you all the answers, after all, this is your journey. Wouldn't life be simple, is someone was always there to stand by you, to tell you which path to take when you reach a fork in the road? Wouldn't it be nice if you always had the difficult decisions made for you with the most positive outcome on the horizon?"** He shook his head, bangs falling back down to his eyes, **"Life just doesn't work like that."**

"It's not like I'm living right now," She whispered, broken, "I just…I always thought my life would be simple, but now I always feel as if I'm in a constant state of limbo. I second guess myself, I get confused, I lash out, I rip away all the good things that happen in my life just because I'm…I'm scared of them."

**"Why?"**

"Because if they're there, if I feel them, I'll just…I'll hurt that much more, right?" She glanced up at him, "I'll hurt and…I can't deal with that. I can't deal with the pain of not knowing which way to go, which path to take, who I should trust, who I should confide in."

**"Life wouldn't be an adventure if it was simple, Quinn. At certain points in everyone's life, they have to make a choice that leads in different directions. Some choices are minuscule - do I drink water or do I have the beer that's sitting in the fridge? Do I go out for a run, or do I stay in and read a book? Do I live…or do I die?"**

"Right now, I don't know which path to take."

**"Life or death?"**

"Wouldn't things be easier…if I just left?"

He saw it, he saw this beautiful girl, beaten, battered and bruised from life. She was seventeen, not old enough to deal with the choices she was dealing with. How could a seventeen year old girl deal with the matter of life and death so early on in life? A teenager should be carefree, worrying about relationships and math homework, not whether or not they should live or die.

"I just…" She blew out a sigh between pursed lips, body shuddering, "I'm tired."

**"Tired of living?"** He asked, intrigued.

"Tired of fighting…"

He nodded and jumped from the wall, his knees bent and he bit back a groan. He was getting weaker every day; he could feel it, his own life draining away from him, he needed to work fast.

**"Come with me."**

He held out his hand, a frail and fragile hand that looked as if it would break if Quinn were to grasp it. Hesitantly, she glanced at it, then his face, and back to his hand, bottom lip bit between teeth.

**"I want to show you something."**

"So…you're not going to kill me?"

He chuckled, his disembodied voice making her skin crawl.

**"Take my hand, Quinn."**

So she did.

* * *

><p>Her older sister Hailey was there, well…she was a lot younger, so young in fact that she sucked on her thumb while she sat on Russell's knee. Her blonde hair was curly and bound in two bright pink hair bobbles, sticking out for the world to see. Quinn would have chuckled and snapped a picture, just to hold it as blackmail, but scene before he was anything but laughable.<p>

Russell bobbed his left knee nervously, Hailey bobbing up and down in time with each bounce. He sat in an uncomfortable steel chair with a plastic seat, but he showed no discomfort, his eyes just remained trained on the woman laying in bed before him.

Judy laid there, staring at nothing in particular - her eyes were lifeless, her skin pale, hair limp. Her throat bobbed from time to time, and the cringe that covered her face made Quinn gasp. Hands were grasping the bed sheets for dear life, almost as if they were a comfort; a life line.

"Wh-," Quinn cleared her throat, "What's wrong?" She asked from behind the glass window of her mother's hospital room.

**"What do you think, Quinn? Tell me."**

"I don't…" She tore her eyes away from her mother and they landed directly on her father. She watched as Hailey played with her father's clasped fist that lay dormant on his leg; her bright eyes were the only thing bright in that room. Everything else seemed so devoid of life, and it made Quinn shuffle with uncertainty. "Is she sick?"

**"On the contrary, she's in perfect health."**

"Then why…?" She asked through a whisper, and watched as Hailey all but slid out of her father's lax grip. The girl disappeared behind the bed, but a tiny hand rose through the air and landed on her mother's shoulder - barely.

And her mother just cracked.

A fresh flood of tears streamed down lifeless cheeks, and the wrenching sob that escaped from the woman's mouth was almost like a wail.

Russell stood, shakily, much to Quinn's shock, and immediately went over to their daughter to pick her up. Hailey stared down at her mother with wide, sad eyes, and then her face disappeared into the strong crook of her father's neck.

"I don't understand…" Quinn whispered, defeated as her eyes darted to the three members of her family, eyes brimming with tears as she watched her mother all but shatter before her very eyes.

Russell did nothing but stand there, and Quinn thought he would _just_ stand there, until he placed a gentle kiss to his wife's forehead and left the room, still carrying his daughter in his arms.

Quinn and Homunculus both remained quiet as they both left the room, watching as Russell shut the door quietly behind him and then settled Hailey onto her tiny feet.

"Dadda?"

"Yes?" He asked, crouching down to try and be eye level.

"Momma sad."

Russell's throat bobbed, "Yeah…mommy's sad, Hailey"

"Why?" Bright eyes stared into Russell's and with a heavy, defeated sigh, he explained.

"Remember that mommy and I told you that you were going to have a little brother to play with?"

Hailey nodded excitedly, "Lil bruva! Lil bruva!"

"Yes…well…" He glanced back to the door, and his shoulders shook, "Well…" And Quinn's heart broke as Russell finally turned back to face his daughter, face collapsed as tears welled in his eyes but refused to fall, "God…wanted your brother by his side, Hailey…"

"B-But lil bruva!"

"I know Hailey…I know." He choked out, shooting his arms out, pulling daughter against his aching chest, holding a heart that could barely keep it together anymore.

* * *

><p>The quiet did nothing but make Homunculus feel comfortable as they settled back into 1567. He took his place back on the church wall, ankles crossing and fragile hands digging deliciously into the brick at his palms and fingertips.<p>

Quinn stood before him, tears meeting the dry earth at her feet, and quiet sobs that refused to be heard.

**"Do you understand…?"**

It took a minute, but Quinn nodded, "M-My mom…she…"

**"Lost a son."**

"H-Hailey was so young there…she was older when my mom was p-pregnant with me, I just…it didn't c-click."

The pale being nodded and adjusted himself on the wall, **"Do you know why I sent you back to that time? Do you know why I showed you that?"**

Quinn said nothing, but he knew she knew.

**"Keep living, Quinn. Would you want your mother to go through that torment all over again? Would you want your father to feel the loss of a daughter that he already wants back so desperately?"**

"But…"

**"If you can't live for yourself, then live for your parents, live for your sister, live for the girl that plagues your thoughts and dreams."**

Her head snapped up,** "I can hear your thoughts, remember? You may…want to keep them PG-13 in the future…"**

Quinn's jaw dropped.

**"Please Quinn, think about what you saw, what you heard, what you felt just now. Take that as your strength, and preserve it as your courage to continue on. Find the stone, save your life, and go back to it. Refuse to say in limbo."**

His words made sense for once, and they couldn't be more clear if he'd screamed them from the top of a building. She had to continue on, not just for herself, but for her mother, and to the memory of a brother that she could have had.

"Thank you," She whispered.

**"My pleasure."** He replied.

* * *

><p>"I was wondering if you had a file open to the public on the Philosopher's stone?"<p>

She could be courageous, she could be confident, she could take hold of her destiny. So proudly, she stood before a man that sat behind the familiar desk on the town hall floor. She could do this, she could get the information she needed, she could find the stone, she could save her life.

God damn she could fucking do this!

She beamed as the man nodded, told her to wait and went in search of the file that had been the bane of all her headaches for the past day. Impatiently, she waited, tapping the wood of the front desk with her nail, shuffling from foot to foot, moving her hair to fall over one shoulder, and then back again to other both.

Her heart thudded desperately in her chest, almost crying to burst free when she caught sight of the door open slightly, and then fully open and then…

Yes! He had a damn file in his hand.

She almost did a victory dance right there and then, and with a beaming smile, she took the file from the man's hand and flipped it open with a thank you. He waited patiently as her eyes flew over the pages, soaking up the much needed information, and with a grin, he took it back from her, but hardly expected her to turn on her heels and scream 'woop!' as she ran almost head first out of the town hall.

"Women nowadays," He scratched his stubbly chin, "Mental, the lotta 'em."

* * *

><p>"Quinn dear-,"<p>

"Sorry!" She all but rushed past Elizabeth, narrowly avoiding Samuel who stood in the hallway, bright eyes wide as a flurry of blonde rushed past him and behind the basement door.

Samuel glanced to his mother, and his mother glanced back, and when she chuckled, he did too. He really didn't understand that Quinn girl, but she was funny all the same.

"Dr. Russell! Cecil!" She bounded down the steps, taking two at a time before coming to a halt at the bottom.

Cecil swerved violently in his place, eyes wide with a brimming expectation, "The-,"

"Stone, I know where it is!"

"Oh virtuous heaven!" He exclaimed, a grin breaking out on his face as he slammed his open palm down on the wooden desk beside him, "Where is the stone?"

Quinn took a large gulp of air, then swallowed, and then another gulp of air; seriously, she hadn't stopped running since the town hall, she was exhausted.

"It's in a small bank just on the outskirts of Lima, it's in a small bank box, number 4264. Apparently, it's open to the public, after the owner died. It was left for anyone to take, but no one has since retrieved it. I can't take it, because they need identification-,"

"Take this," He swirled again, his body almost bouncing with joy as he all but threw his work into the air as he searched, "Ah-ha!" He pulled free a small envelope, "My credentials are in side, take this to the bank. They often except messengers - I will write a note, they should give you the stone."

Quinn nodded and waited as he grabbed hold of a fresh sheet of paper. His hand shook, and she grinned when he chuckled to himself. They were both brimming with excitement, the doctor finally because he could finish his experiment, and her, because finally, after weeks of torture and puzzles, her life would return back to normal.

"I'm sorry that the handwriting is much too messy, but I can't seem to overcome this joy. It almost feels like the day Elizabeth told me she was expecting our second child."

Quinn chuckled and Cecil grinned, _"Almost._ I'll finally be able to finish my project, be able to provide for my family with unimaginable wealth! I'll finally be able to walk my son to school, to watch my daughter grow taller and older, to watch life through the eyes of my children. My Lord it's positively thrilling!"

Quinn beamed with pride, "I'll go get it right now!"

"Excellent, young Quinn. Excellent." He watched as the girl he'd grown to respect climb the stairs two by two, and when she had her hand on the basement door, he called out to her, "Thank you, from the bottom of my heart…thank you."

With a blush and a smile, Quinn shook her head, "No. Thank you."

* * *

><p>To say the bank was small, was a complete understatement. It was damn near microscopic! Actually, it didn't look like a bank, it looked like a corner shop with a small beaming sign hanging from a rusty iron hook labelled 'bank'.<p>

She'd stopped and asked for directions (when she wasn't running and had enough breath in her lungs to actually ask) and an hour later she'd made it to the bank that would solve all her problems.

With a step back from the door, she turned and rested her back against the stone wall of the building. She just needed to calm down; if she walked in there grinning and sweating, they'd probably think she'd escaped from a mental asylum or something,, and then she'd never get the stone.

She needed that stone. My god, the stone, it was behind those walls, those walls that pressed so deliciously into her back and gave her body a shake of pride. She'd done it, she'd found it; with nothing to go on, she'd tracked it down, she'd found her destiny.

She'd won.

With a long heaving breath, she turned and pushed open the bank door. It was all but deserted, except for a lone man sat behind a desk, pushed right up against the wall. His thinning grey hair shone in the gentle oil lamp light, and the glasses perched on the edge of his crooked nose looked like they'd drop off and fall into his lap if he hunched over the paper he was pursuing anymore.

"Excuse me," She called out gently, striding toward the desk. The man, with shiny grey eyes looked up at her and beamed (obviously he was happy to have a customer finally)

"Can I help you, young lady…?" He glanced at her clothes, and with a quick shake of his head, he looked back up at her. "Are you quite alright? You look rather…" He took in the sweat that marred her pale forehead, tendrils of hair stuck to the skin, "Warm." He ended with a mumble.

"Oh, I'm fine, thank you. Uhm…I'm hearing to pick something up. I'm a messenger for Dr. Cecil Russell."

"Dr. Russell…?" The man replied with a quirked eyebrow, "It certainly has been a while since I saw that man. How is he?"

"Huh?" Quinn shook her head, "Oh…he's great…fine…okay, you know. Uhm, his credentials are here, and a note, telling you why I'm here."

"Excellent," The old man beamed, pushing up his glasses as he took both the credentials and handwritten note from Quinn's shaking hand. If he noticed it was shaking, he didn't utter a word. He just unfolded all the paper work and went to town.

Now she waited; it's all she could do. She peered around the small room, taking in the cobbled walls, the concrete floors, the oil lamps, the decorative, almost antique looking desk, the man before her, and then the paperwork.

Cool, she'd looked at everything. Now what could she do…?

So she paced, slowly of course, she didn't want to scare him. She certainly didn't want a representative from the asylum so come pick her up or anything. So slowly, she walked across the room, up and down the room, diagonally, swerved and did it backwards, took different paths each time.

She was on her fifth round when the man finally adjusted his places, sat up and smiled, "I'll be right back with your item. Please wait right here, young lady."

With a beam that could brighten the darkest of rooms, she watched him rise from his chair, move it and then hunch down. He grabbed a small steel ring and pulled with all his might, with a groan, the square of concrete came free.

She offered to help, but she just shook his head and continued to pull, allowing it to the fall when it'd opened fully. "There we go. I'll be back momentarily, if anyone comes in, please tell them to wait."

"Sure."

He grabbed the lantern off his desk and with his free hand, grabbed a ladder that stuck to one side of the hatch. Slowly, he climbed down until his balding head was out of sight.

This was it, if he read the box number, obviously she'd come to the right place. There was only one bank in Lima, right? This was the right one? Oh God, what if it wasn't there? Her eyes widened with panic; what if someone had taken the stone and just left? What if it was lost? What if she'd never see it? What if she'd just been sent on a wild goose chase? What if the files in the town hall were wrong?

"Oh sweet merciful Jesus," She groaned, slamming her face down into two open hands. "Please be there…" She whispered, muffled between the palms of her hands, "Please be there…"

She heard clattering beneath her and she squeezed her eyes shut in reflex, "Please. Please. Please. Please be there. Please. Please be in that box. Please. Please. Please. Please be there."

"And here we go!" The man dusted off his already dusty pants and planted the lantern back on his desk, a small paper package underneath his armpit, "It took some searching for the box; it hadn't been open in a while!"

"It's there?" Her hands flew from her face. He grinned at her; she truly was an odd girl, "It was actually there?"

"Well, yes." He pulled the package from under his arm and handed it to her, "It's right here."

"Oh thank you!" She launched for the package and sighed, looking down at it. Wow, it felt so weird, to finally hold a stone that she'd only heard about through history and the screen of her computer. This stone was her future; the future is in your hands, never had that saying felt so true.

With a shaking hand, she tore the packaging open, and out popped a small red stone, glimmering in the lantern light. It was only half the size of her palm, and my God it was beautiful. It was cut like a diamond, sharp in some areas, but smooth as a newborn's skin in others. The red was so deep, and as she stared at the stone, she felt as if she was being sucked in.

This stone, this small, tiny, insignificant stone to anyone else, would save her life.

"I can't thank you enough." She sighed, glancing up at the clerk whose eyes were glittering with mirth, "Seriously, it might not mean a lot, but you did a lot today."

The man's head tilted, and ever so slowly, a soft smile crept upon his lips, "That's my job. That's why I come here everyday."

She smiled, "Keep up the good work."

* * *

><p>It was clutched and it dug so perfectly into her palm. She felt renewed, vigorous; like her life had just suddenly rushed back into her body. No longer was she running on autopilot, her body didn't take it where it wanted to anymore, she told it where to go. Her thoughts were clear and concise, her body hummed with an energy that just wanted to burst free.<p>

So she decided to do just that.

With a childish grin and a giggle that couldn't even be fought back if she tried, she all but bolted back to Dr. Russell.

Today was the start of something new.

* * *

><p>Why did her ass hurt?<p>

With a groan she looked up from her vantage point on the floor - had she been stupid enough to ACTUALLY fall on her ass while she ran? No…she ran into something. She glanced up, and there stood a smirking Homunculus, eyes gleaming just like the stone still grasped in her hand.

**"I take it you found the stone?"**

"Yeah," She climbed to her feet, dusting herself off, fighting off the ache in her backside. "It was in a small deposit box in a bank just on the outskirts of town," She extended her hand and showed the stone, "This is it, right?"

Something wasn't right. Why was Homunculus staring at the stone like it was the answer to meaning of life? His eyes were glittering, but no longer in mirth, it…actually terrified her. In reflex, she drew her hand back, and clasped it tightly in her fist.

"I uh…I need to get it to Dr. Russell…"

Slowly his eyes rose and pinned hers.

**"You do that, Quinn."**

She ran. She ran for her life, because fuck, she felt as if she'd drop dead right there and then.

* * *

><p>Cecil wasn't in the basement when she returned, he was stood in the living room, Samuel sat on his shoulders, Mary in his arms, Elizabeth stood before him with a smile that could cure cancer.<p>

"Sorry to intrude."

The Doctor turned and faced her, Samuel's hands grasping his hair for steadiness through the turn, "The stone."

She let her face remain stoic, but then, just when Cecil looked like he was about to crack, she chucked it up in the air, and almost in slow motion it felt Ithat/I fucking good, she caught it in one hand and extended it.

The family cheered. They cheered. And the baby that Cecil held in his arms cooed with excitement. She felt a part of something special, she felt as if she was the reason this family had something to strive for now.

Well…apart from what would happen but…no…she wouldn't think about that now. Not when this was happening.

Cecil handed his daughter to his wife, and then with a giggle from his son, pulled him off his shoulders and plonked him down on the couch.

"To my basement, young Quinn."

"To the basement," She watched him move past her, and then with a wink to Samuel, she left too.

* * *

><p>"I can't thank you enough for what you've done. Words can't describe the elation I feel right now," Cecil beamed as he pottered around his make shift lab, "I just…please, just trust when I say you have done a lot for me, for my family."<p>

Quinn could have blushed from the attention, and she did when Cecil beamed at her, "The stone." And he went calm, and extended his hand, "Please."

She nodded, extended the stone and dropped it into the palm of his hand. He took his time with it, looking at it, examining it, listening to it, damn near smelling it before turning to the table behind him and laying it down as if it would shatter from the pressure of wood below it.

Wait.

He worked, and she watched him, but…what was suppose to happen now? The stone was suppose to help both Cecil and her right? When she went back to 2011, would the attempts on her life stop? Was it over, just like that?

It wasn't like she was expecting some sort of fanfare, but…it was rather, anti-climactic right?

"I uh…I have to go and talk to someone, okay? I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Oh!"

Cecil turned and shook his head, "Please…give me three days. Three days and you will see the fruits of my labour. Maybe we'll hold a party; you'll be invited of course! But…give me three days."

She smiled ever so slightly, "Of course, a party sounds nice. I…guess I'll see you in three days?"

"Three days," He replied with a grin, and with childlike wonder in his eyes, Cecil returned to his work. She walked the stairs up toward the basement door, and just before she shut the door behind her, she took one glance at him. Why did she feel so empty?

* * *

><p>"Homunculus."<p>

It was getting dark now, and only the roaring orange and red of the setting sun filled the streets. Only a few villagers mulled around the town, most of them already in for the eight pm curfew.

It would have been a beautiful sight, and she would have sat and watched the setting sun if it wasn't for the uneasiness she felt in the pit of her stomach. What the hell was going on? She felt elated minutes ago, and now she just felt an impacting sense of dread?

**"You called."**

He was behind her. She didn't like his tone. She turned and watched through narrow eyes as he stood before her, arms crossed over his chest. He seemed…stronger?

"Is it over? The stone, I found it. Does that mean that the attempts on my life are through?"

Homunculus tilted his head softly to the side, red eyes seeming sinister in the beautiful glow of the sunset, **"Why would you think that…?"**

She stared, it's all she could do. If she did anything else she knew she'd shatter, she knew she'd shatter to pieces and just flow away in the wind. Her breathing, oh God, why couldn't she breathe? Why did he chest feel so tight? What was happening?

**"Why would you presume something like that would happen simply from giving a stone to man?"**

"You!" She gasped between shaken breaths, "You told me! You told me if I got the stone it would be over!"

**"You don't have the stone though…do you?"**

She collapsed to her knees, lungs aching for air they just couldn't get, "What?"

**"Did I ever once…tell you to give the stone to Cecil Russell…?"**

"You…" She clawed at her chest, ripping at her clothes, "You! Bastard!"

**"I'm hardly a bastard,"** He smirked, taking a few steps forward toward the woman gasping for breath. She clawed at his leather boots, trying in vain to pull him down. He indulged her, crouched down and tipped her chin his a now strong hand, **"You need to learn not to assume, Quinn Fabray. It's not good for you."**

"You. You're…the killer!"

**"Oh please."** He rolled his eyes, **"What could I gain from killing from you? I may have been a little dishonest with my intentions, but no…I am not your killer."**

"Then w-why…w-why can't I-I b-breathe?"

**"It's called a panic attack I believe."** He rose to his feet, dusted off his knees and arched his back, and when it cracked he groaned with satisfaction.

"S-stop…" She whispered, collapsing face first into the dirt, "S-stop…"

**"You've done your part now, Quinn. It's not my business if you should live or die anymore. You solidified your destiny by handing the Philosopher's stone over."**

"…" She was fading, and his voice seemed so far away. She gasped, but it just hurt, it felt as if her lungs were on fire, her whole body ached, her stomach clenched, her head throbbed.

**"You. You ended your life, Quinn. Not I."**

"N-no…"

**"I pity you, I truly do."** With a content sigh, he bent back down and ripped the PAD free from her pocket, **"And from what I know…I know you won't need this anymore.**

"G-Give it…back."

He slowly ran a hand through her hair,**"I'm not…entirely cruel you know, you actually did save my life. Hm…"** He narrowed his eyes, lips pursed, **"I'll send you back, I'll let you live. One final chance. Take it, Quinn. With both hands. For your family, remember?**

"M-mom…"

Homunculus smiled, so bittersweet, **"For mother."**

Her eyes shut, and with one last shuddering breath she whispered, "Rach…"

* * *

><p>She felt it before anything else. Her body still ached, my God did it ache. Her head ached right behind the eyeballs; it felt as if she'd gone a whole night drinking with Puck without the baby, and damn…her lungs. With every breath of air she took it felt as if she was breathing in toxic gas.<p>

It hurt to breathe, but it'd never felt so delicious.

She felt it again, the weight by her side, the hand running up her cheek, up through her hair.

Where was she? Was she still with Homunculus?

It hurt to open her eyes, it _burnt_. It agonized her. It destroyed her. But she had to see; who was beside her?

An outline, a fuzzy outline, and the smell of a certain perfume; one she knew, one she loved. Then the vision cleared, and there was brown hair, long and curled, grazing her chest. Brown eyes, brown eyes that could melt the coldest of hearts, and then…

The nose.

She thought she'd never see that nose again, oh sweet heaven it was Rachel Berry's nose and she'd never been happier to see it then right that moment.

"Rach…?" She groaned, squinting one eye to fight out the fuzziness. The figure moved and then a pressure was on her lips, a fleeting pressure and it felt so beautiful she could have sobbed. It felt as if she was home.

"Quinn…are you okay? You've been asleep for two days."

"W-what?" Her eyes snapped open, and then she groaned, the light invading the back of her eyeballs and digging right into her brain. She felt the bed dip, and then blinds moving, then the bed dipping again, "Two days…?"

She felt Rachel nod against her cheek, "I found you in my back yard. You were unconscious, but breathing. I told your mother you were sleeping over. I assumed it was due to your time travelling; why you were sleeping so long. My dad checked you over and he saw nothing wrong with you, and just put it down to exhaustion. I agreed."

She sighed. Wow, it felt good to sigh. Wait, no it didn't. Her lungs were burning again, a little less this time, but the sting was still there.

"I was…in 1567."

She heard Rachel sigh, and slowly, carefully, cautiously she opened both her eyes, peering up at the girl through narrowed eyes. "I know."

"I found the stone…" She took a breath, then coughed.

"Calm down." She rested her hand gently on Quinn's chest, fingertips dancing across her collarbone. It was so soothing, and she felt her eyes lull. "Tell me everything, slowly."

So she did, and by the end of it, Rachel's eyes were blazing and Quinn was drinking the glass of water on Rachel's bedside table.

"I knew it!" She screeched, and Quinn's eye ticked, wow…that really hurt her brain. "I knew I couldn't trust him, that devious little rat!"

"Rach…please…quiet down, okay?" She whispered, putting the glass back on the table.

"Quinn! He was playing you all along, how can I calm down? He watched you have a panic attack, took your only means of support and then just on the edge of death threw you a riddle and put you back in the right time. How am I suppose to be calm?"

"Screaming about it won't make it better…or my head for that matter," She replied with a mutter, "Rachel…I can deal with this, it's just another bump in the road I have to overcome."

"Bump? More like someone blew up the road, Quinn!"

With a heavy sigh, Quinn weakly rose from the bed, leaning back against the headboard. The brunette helped, forgetting to rant for a half a second as she adjusted Quinn's pillows.

"Somehow…that stone made him stronger, and giving it to Cecil accomplished that. I just need to figure out why, and hopefully I can solve my own troubles at the same time."

"But you don't have the PAD anymore, how are you expected to figure anything out?"

"I have the internet, I have books, my history teacher." With a groan as she clicked her neck, Quinn continued, "I'll find a way. I'm not giving up yet, Rachel."

"I hope you don't, Quinn."

Hazel eyes danced to Rachel's dull brown ones, "Oh, no more McFly?"

Rachel's head shot up, "I…thought I wasn't allowed to call you that anymore. I mean…after what I said which I truly regret by the way, I thought you would want to end it with me or-,"

"Rach. Shut up." Rachel snapped her mouth shut and looked at Quinn, sheepish, "I learnt a lot in 1567. I learnt that I can't take things for granted; nothing gets offered to me on a plate, and sometimes people are bound to make the wrong decisions in life. I did, when I brought you back here and just left you. You did, when you said that out of hurt. We all make mistakes, but we have to learn from them and move on."

"But it doesn't change the fact that I-,"

"Learn from it. And move on." Quinn repeated, one brow raised, a motion that Rachel knew as 'this discussion is over. Agree with me or just shut up.' Rachel took the former.

"I don't deserve your forgiveness, but thank you."

"You deserve it." The blonde leaned her head back against the headboard and took one mighty breath - it didn't hurt anymore, thank God. "Such a long day."

"A long two days listening to you snore, yes."

Quinn scoffed, "I don't snore."

"Yes you do, McFly. I even recorded it, because I knew you'd disagree with me, would you like to hear it?" She even made to move off the bed, but in her last minute haste, Quinn grabbed her girlfriend around the waist and heaved her backwards. She landed with a thud against the blonde's chest, and damn it hurt, because her chest was still sore, but then Rachel was giggling and she smelt that perfume, and the smell of strawberries from Rachel's shampoo and she didn't hurt that much anymore.

"Don't leave me," She whispered into that thick brown hair, then it was gone, and Rachel had turned and was holding herself up above Quinn, the blonde's arms wrapped loosely around her waist.

"I won't." Rachel promised with eyes that solidified it, "I'll never leave."

"Rach…?"

Rachel hummed and leaned down, pressing a light kiss to Quinn's nose.

"I'm ready."


	16. Chapter 15

**Shadow of Fate - Chapter 15**

Quinn propped herself up on her elbows, looking up at the blushing girl above her. Rachel had her head bowed shyly, looking through her eyelashes to try and gauge Quinn's reaction to her statement. They promised one another they'd wait, promised they'd save each other for one another.

But…

"Why?"

Rachel bit her bottom lip, contemplating her answer. "It's not because I just want sex, you have to understand that. I just…I could have lost you and I wouldn't have known how it would have felt. Being with you, holding you like that…" Rachel calmed considerably when Quinn's nimble fingers threaded through her hair, "I could lose you at any moment. I want to feel something, just in case…"

"I'm right here…" Quinn's hand disappeared from Rachel's hair, coming to clutch at Rachel's shaking hand, "You feel this, right?" She moved the hand to her chest and held it there, making sure that her girlfriend could feel the heavy thump of her heart, "I'm here."

"How long for though…?" The brunette whispered raggedly, and Quinn dropped her hand gently back into Rachel's lap, "How long until Homunculus comes back and tries to kill you, or your 'real' killer strikes again. You don't have the PAD anymore, Quinn, you can't promise me that you'll come back anymore."

She hadn't thought of that. Now that the PAD was gone she couldn't travel back in time and thwart the intention on her life. She'd have to feel it, that cold and clammy feeling as her heart gradually slowed to a stop. She'd have to watch as the surroundings around her blurred into insignificant shapes, she'd have to listen to the voices around her slowly disappearing like a fleeting dream.

"Jesus," Quinn sighed, sitting up fully, Rachel still on her lap. Her arms came to wrap around her girlfriend's waist, holding Rachel close; she needed to feel her girlfriend close to her. She wasn't in any danger at the moment, she knew she wasn't, she could feel a shift in the air when there was trouble; but just having Rachel nearby made her breathe a little easier.

"I could lose you for good this time, Quinn."

Hazel eyes locked on brown and almost instantaneously, both girls took one deep breath, "You mean the world to me, you know that?"

Brown eyes watered, and Quinn smiled, "If it wasn't for you I'd have gone stir crazy weeks ago. Thank you…for being there and believing me about this."

"You made one of my dreams come true, how could I not?"

"Being with me," Quinn filled in with a smile.

"No, seeing Funny Girl."

Quinn stared, and Rachel laughed, boisterously and the blonde couldn't help but beam as she watched Rachel laugh. She was beautiful, a vision, the way her eyes sparkled, the way her stomach trembled with each loud bark.

Quinn's thumb gently grazed Rachel's cheekbone, "You're beautiful, you know that."

With a blush, Rachel pitched forward and buried her head into the crook of Quinn's neck, "Surrup…" She mumbled into the skin, and Quinn chuckled gently, "S'not funny."

"Snot funny? Did your English suffer when you travelled through time?"

Rachel head reared back, "You, Quinn Fabray, are unbelievably infuriating." Quinn chuckled, "My English is impeccable, I'll have you know that I won first place in our middle school's Spelling Bee three years running!"

One shapely blonde eyebrow rose, "I know, you beat me on 'Redundant'."

Rachel giggled, "I never knew redundant had another e instead of an a."

"Do you mind? It took me years to live that down. I can't help it if I was high on cough syrup; my mom refused me to miss out because of my hacking cough and just doused me with grape cough syrup and threw me onto the stage."

"I wondered why you wandered off stage when your name was called," At Quinn's almighty eye roll, Rachel was shoved off of Quinn's lap, "Your eyes were all hazy and…" Rachel choked, "Oh God I remember, you kept on trying to eat the microphone because you thought it was a gobstopper!"

Quinn crossed her arms over her chest and defensively mumbled, "I watched Willy Wonka the night before, okay?"

"Awwww," Rachel pouted and climbed back onto Quinn's chest. It took some leverage but she managed to pull her girlfriend's arms away from her chest, "I'm sorry baby."

"Tch," Quinn looked away, pouting.

"How about I make it up to you…?"

Quinn's eyes shot back to her girlfriend, "Do you mean…?"

Rachel smirked.

* * *

><p>They were back at school after their long Sunday afternoon together. Luckily, Quinn's mother hadn't asked any questions as to why she'd stayed over at Rachel's for the past few days, except for the general 'are you feeling okay?' question which Quinn immediately answered with 'yes' because coming out with 'No I almost died in 1556' wasn't really the way to go.<p>

Her mom was up first on Monday, which was a shock, because Judy Fabray tended to enjoy her lie in's on a Monday morning when she didn't have to work.

"Breakfast, Quinnie?" Judy shouted from the kitchen as Quinn made her way down the stairs.

"No thanks, mom. I'm just gonna grab an apple and head of to school."

"Have you been eating right while you've been over at the Berry's, Quinn?" Judy asked, gaze running up and down Quinn's body, "You look thinner."

Quinn glanced down at her body, sure her jeans were a bit baggy, but…they _were_ baggy jeans. Holding her apple in her mouth, she shoved her books for the day into her bag. She pulled the apple free and smiled, "Mom, I'm eating fine. Rachel cooked me a huge meal last night."

"Oh? But I thought you hated that Vegan food she makes."

"She cooked bacon." It took all of Quinn's might not to drool, thinking back to the huge plate of bacon, scrambled eggs and chopped tomatoes that had towered on her plate. Rachel had all but incinerated herself in a hot shower afterward, refusing to watch Quinn eat chicken eggs and pigs. But damn, it was _good!_

"Your bacon addiction is terrifying, sometimes."

Quinn just smirked at her mother, kissed her goodbye and dashed from the house, barely remembering to grab her car keys before the door slammed shut behind her.

It was unnerving, not to see Rachel at her locker that morning. The singer was usually there, like clockwork, ten minutes before the bell rang to prepare the books she would need for her first lesson. But no, she wasn't there.

"Finn?" The giant of a boy stopped in his tracks, did a double take and wandered up to Quinn beside her own locker, "Have you seen Rachel?"

"Uh…no, why?"

"Just wondered," Quinn pulled her phone from her locker and typed out a quick message:

_**Where are you?**_

"How are thing between you two anyways?" He adjusted his backpack on his shoulder, "Things are going okay?"

Quinn nodded, not looking up from her iPhone, "Yeah, things are great, thanks."

Finn nodded, "You sure…?"

Then she glanced up, "Why? Has Rachel said something to you?" Had Rachel told Finn about what was going on? Had he dropped by while she was unconscious or something? Oh God, did he know about Homunculus?

"Well n-no, I was just wondering if thing were okay."

Quinn's eyes burned a path down and then back up Finn's body, "We're fine."

"Okay." Finn mumbled awkwardly, taking a step back, "Uh, guess I'll see you in Glee then."

"Yeah, see you later Finn."

She watched him walk away, the way his shoulders hunched as she passed by other students, and sighed. It was obvious that Finn was still in love with Rachel; he could see it in his eyes every time Rachel spoke to him, or sang a duet with him in Glee Club. It was difficult to watch, but knowing that Rachel always came back to her, sat beside her and held her hand as they walked out after Glee, made the jealousy dissipate into nothingness.

* * *

><p>"Q, ass over here."<p>

Quinn rolled her eyes and dropped her tray on the table in front of Santana and Brittany, "What's up?"

"Sit."

Slowly, Quinn took her seat, waited, and when nothing came, she picked up her fork and stabbed a French fry.

Brittany was watching her, and Santana was typing incessantly on her phone. There was silence until finally, the Latina put down her phone and watched the blonde opposite her.

"Where's your dwarf?"

Quinn stopped mid chew, then continued and swallowed, "I have no idea."

"Have you and Rachel had a fight?" Brittany asked with wide eyes.

"What? No, why is everyone asking if me and her are fine? We're fine."

"Then why isn't she attached to your hip, like usual?" Santana quipped, taking a sip from her soda can.

Quinn shrugged, "I don't know, I text her earlier but…she hasn't got back to me."

"Probably sick of you already," The Latina smirked, and narrowly avoided a French fry projectile, "Oh c'mon, Q, I'm just messing with you. She's probably sick of something."

"She would have text me…" Quinn mumbled moodily, not really interested in her lunch anymore. Something was wrong, she knew it, and as she sent off another texts asking, no, telling Rachel to ring her ASAP, by the end of lunch, she'd worried herself stupid.

* * *

><p>Glee was boring, and she was half tempted to miss it completely, especially with the fact that Rachel had yet to get back to her. The club were trying to decide what song they were going to sing at Regional's (they still hadn't decided although the competition was only one week away)<p>

Quinn sat at the back of the room, phone digging into the palm of her hand. She couldn't shake the nervousness she felt, and when Mr. Schue asked her for her input into the song choice, she just gave a noncommittal shrug and glanced back down to her phone.

"Staring at it won't make it ring, you know." Kurt remarked beside her, crossing one leg over the other.

"I know," The blonde replied with a sigh.

"Rachel?"

"She won't answer my calls or my texts. I'm getting worried."

Kurt frowned, "Why? If we know our resident diva, she probably felt a tickle at the back of her throat, dived headfirst into her bed, checked her symptoms on WebMD and decided she's dying."

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Once. She did that once."

Kurt chuckled, "And that was before you were dating her. You know, for a girl who flat out refused to acknowledge Rachel, you sure did listen to her a lot."

"She's hard to ignore. That's my excuse."

"You never did tell me why you two started dating. It spread like wildfire around the club. The news of yours and Rachel's budding relationship eclipsed Santana finally coming out of the closet."

With a smirk, Quinn turned her attention to her friend, "We all knew she was gay though."

"Hm…but no one realized you were."

Quinn shrugged, "I think I'm just Berry-sexual." Then she paused, "That sounded totally-,"

"Yup."

"I can't believe-,"

"You just said that, yes, it was completely disturbing."

"Leave me alone, Hummel."

Kurt smirked, "As you wish."

* * *

><p>The banter in Glee Club did nothing to ease the fear she felt when it came to Rachel. The girl still held a worryingly stable silence with her girlfriend, and that's why she was doing almost forty down a residential road toward the Berry household. Something was wrong, and with everything that was going on with her, she refused to believe it was just Rachel trying to save her voice because she had a sore throat.<p>

The Berry men weren't home when she finally pulled up into the drive, nor did anyone answer the door when she knocked incessantly. She tried to door, but it was locked, and she cursed for not taking the key that Rachel had offered her in 'case of emergencies.'

_"Safety is a high priority in this house, Quinn. Every member of my family has a key to his house, including close friends. You are my girlfriend, therefore you can bestowed with a shiny new key to my front door."_

_"Why do I get the feeling this is the first key you've given to someone?"_

_Shrugging shyly, Rachel replied gently, "You're the only one I trust with it. Finn would probably lose it and it would somehow end up in Noah's possession and then I'd wake up with said boy rummaging through my underwear drawer."_

_"And you trust me enough not to do that? Wow, you must be delusional._

_Rachel just slapped her playfully and kissed her._

Circling the house, she looked up at her girlfriend's open window from the backyard, "Guess that's the only option."

It took some doing, and she fell twice after losing her footing on the tree she was climbing, but eventually she made it so she was level with the window. The blinds were shut, and no matter how hard she tried to peer into the window, she couldn't see a thing.

"Okay, Q, you can do this." Hesitantly, she let go of the trunk of the tree and lined herself up for a jump, "You can do this; if you can jump off the top off a pyramid during practice, you can jump off a tree."

With a deep breath, she jumped, collided face first with the window sill and only just managed to hold on. "Motherfu-," She groaned, tasting the blood that marred her bottom lip.

She managed to climb through the window, pulling the blinds down with her as her body slumped to the ground with an undignified thumb. Groaning, head ringing from collision with the windowsill, she opened her eyes and looked around.

Rachel was sat up in bed, still in her pyjamas, staring at Quinn with wide eyes. She looked fine, and her laptop wasn't even on so WebMD was out of the window, so why-,

**"Quinn Fabray, so glad you could join us."** Homunculus stood behind her, leaning against the side of the open window, **"A rather undignified jump, but comical none the less. We needed a laugh to break the tension in the room."**

"Tension?" Quinn mumbled, all but stumbling to her feet, "What are you doing here, Homunculus? Why are you in my girlfriend's bedroom?"

**"I just wanted to speak with young Rachel,"** He watched with bright red eyes as Quinn circled the bed and pulled a silent Rachel into her arms, **"We were just talking, weren't we, Rachel?"**

Rachel nodded dumbly against Quinn's chest, "I left the bathroom this morning and he was just sat on my bed. I-I didn't know what to do, he wouldn't leave."

Quinn hesitantly pulled her eyes from Homunculus and pulled away from Rachel to look at her, "Are you okay? He didn't hurt you did he?"

**"Oh please,"** Homunculus scoffed, rolling his eyes, and for a second, she was reminded of Kurt earlier on in the day, **"I simply wished to speak with Rachel."**

"About what?" Quinn ground out between clenched teeth, the pain from her bottom lip spiking up toward her temple.

Homunculus said nothing, so she turned her attention back to her girlfriend, "What did he want to speak to you about, Rachel?"

Rachel leaned up, wrapping her arms around Quinn's neck. Quinn shivered involuntarily as Rachel's lips met her ear, but she sobered when she heard, "He's going to hurt me if you try anything. Just leave, Quinn, I'll be fine."

Quinn's eyes shot to Homunculus, who looked anything but menacing at the moment. He still stood to the side of the window, back slouched against the wall, eyes half open as he watched the two cuddle.

"I'm not leaving."

_"Please."_

**"You should listen to your girlfriend, Quinn. You wouldn't want to be in the doghouse."**

"You have no business with Rachel. You only have business with me."

Rachel clutched desperately to the back off Quinn's neck.

**"What are you going to do, Quinn? Have another panic attack?**"

Quinn's eyes narrowed, "Shut up."

**"If you can't save yourself, how are you hoping to save your girlfriend? No matter though, I have business with Rachel. You weren't invited."**

"I'm not leaving her with you."

**"Leave, or I'll take her into another time, then how will you follow us?"**

"I have the-," Her hand went instantly for her jeans pocket, and when Homunculus all but laughed at her suddenly crestfallen face, she clenched her fists, "You wouldn't."

**"Do you want to bet…?"**

Then Rachel was pulling away, sitting back down on the bed, "You should leave, Quinn. He hasn't done anything to hurt me since you arrived, I'm sure I'll be fine for a couple more hours…"

"Are you being serious right now?" Quinn asked, eyes wide, "Seriously? You want to be left with the guy that you wanted to kill only yesterday?"

**"Charming."**

"Quinn, please. You're making this difficult."

"Difficult? Rachel, tell me what's going on…why are you telling me to go?"

"He'll hurt you if you don't go." Rachel whispered, "Please. Go."

"Rachel."

**"Quinn, perhaps you should listen to your girlfriend, yes?"**

"Shut up!" Quinn turned to face Homunculus, "You have no right to be here, whatever you have to say to her can be said through me. She's not involved in this!"

**"Rachel, tell me, why are you with such a violent person?"**

Quinn's head reared back and Rachel's head snapped toward the being by her window, "W-what? She's not violent! How dare you say that!"

**"All she's done since I met her was scream at me and threaten me. It's hard to have a nice moment with her."**

"Like I'd want a nice moment with someone like you!"

Homunculus chuckled, then his face fell, **"Just leave, Quinn. Let the adults in the room talk."**

"Go screw yourself."

**"Go, or I will hurt her."**

Cringing, she glanced back at Rachel, who sat stock still on the bed, eyes flicking to Homunculus and then back to her. What could she do? If she left, Rachel would be left the mercy of a man that had left her to die only days ago, but is she stayed, either she or Rachel would be hurt?

Talk about Sophie's choice.

Her head swam as her eyes flicked from Rachel to the menace that stood coolly only a few feet away from her. What could she choose? She didn't know what to choose! She felt a headache spiking from behind her eyes, and suddenly the smack to her head rushed up on her. She ached, her lips stung like a bitch, Homunculus was smirking at her with a shit eating grin and Rachel was pleading to her with wide eyes to leave the room.

"Fuck sake!"

Then she felt it. Behind her eyes, that sharp blue light that had always engulfed her body whenever she travelled. It was strong, heavy with electric, and her muscles burned as the power coursed through her body.

Homunculus' eyes only went wide for half a second, before the smirk settled back onto his lips once more.

The electric blue light settled around her bodies, crackled for only moments before disappearing as quickly as it appeared.

Her lungs burned for oxygen, she felt dizzy, and she felt back against the wall, only managing to stop herself from falling to the floor with a hand on Rachel's computer desk.

**"Oh well done."** Quinn looked up slowly, throat dry and constrictive as she wheezed for air. Rachel was at her side, hand slowly running a track up and down her back soothingly, **"I never knew you'd be the one to do it."**

"Do…what?" She gasped between breaths, allowing her body to settle against Rachel's warm and soothing body.

**"You felt the time stream, did you not?"**

Quinn just nodded, her throat refusing to work any longer.

**"Hm."** His eyes fell from Quinn to Rachel, **"I think our conversation is over, don't you think…?"**

Rachel nodded slowly, "Please don't come back."

Homunculus smirked, **"I have no need to. Everything is settled."**

"Settled?" Rachel asked, brow furrowed.

**"Goodbye Quinn, Rachel."**

The air around him shifted, and as the outline of his body began to disappear, only his disembodied voice echoed in the air, **"I'll see you soon, Quinn."**

She could finally breathe again, thanks to Rachel cuddled up beside her on the bed, legs thrown over her waist and head burrowed into her neck. The familiar sound of Rachel's breathing soothed her, and as her breathing regulated itself, she threaded her hand through Rachel's thick locks.

"What did he say to you?"

She felt Rachel shift against her, "He was just telling me about why your life was still in danger; about why you shouldn't have handed the Philosopher's stone over to Dr. Russell."

"What did he say?"

"That it's the reason you're being killed." Rachel propped herself up by her elbow and glanced down at her girlfriend, "Handing over the stone was the reason you're being killed."

"I-I don't understand," Quinn frowned, "He told me to find the stone, and I did…Dr. Russell just wanted it too…"

"Could Dr. Russell be the killer?" Rachel asked gently.

"God, I don't even know anymore." Quinn slammed her head back against the pillow, "It's just one riddle after the next with him. I don't even know if I can trust him; he could be just saying things to you to confuse me."

"Quinn, you need to think about this. The person who is trying to kill you was directly involved with that stone."

Slowly, Quinn turned her head to look at Rachel, "How do you mean?"

"I think Homunculus was telling the truth. He even said to you when you handed over the stone that it had set your future in stone. You were told to look for the stone instead of your killer. The reason why this is happening is because of that stone. Someone you crossed paths with due to the stone is your killer, I can guarantee it."

Quinn bit her bottom lip instinctively, and with a wince she let go, fucking bust lip. "I just…" She sighed, "I'm sick of this uncertainty about everything. Who can I trust, who can't I trust? Is the stone the reason I'm being murdered or not?"

"You can trust me," Rachel leaned down and gently brushed her lips against Quinn's, "You can always trust me."

"I know…I know…"

"Quinn?"

"Yeah…?"

"Homunculus said he'd see you again soon…"

"Not for a long time, I hope."

"Quinn?"

"Yeah, Rach?"

Rachel shuffled, leaning down closer to Quinn so their noses were brushing. Calmly, Rachel took one of Quinn's hands and held it to her chest, "Make love to me…?"

"W-what?" Quinn spluttered, flattening back against the bed, "N-Now…?"

Rachel nodded with a blush, "Please…?"

"Rach…"

Silence filled the room, and as they watched one another, Quinn felt her heart skip a beat then thud twice as fast when it kicked back in. Was it wrong to _want_ to do it so early on in the relationship? But this wasn't just any relationship was it? Quinn's life hung on a tightrope everyday, and Rachel just needed that certainty.

After she watched Quinn die, she needed to know that Quinn would still be there after everything was through. She needed to hear her breathe, feel skin against skin, soothing words of comfort whispered in ears.

It was a certainty she needed, and it shocked Quinn how willing she was to give it.

"Yeah…" Quinn nodded slowly, "Yeah."

And then they were kissing, and Quinn felt like crying because suddenly everything was clicking into place. Rachel was against her, chest heaving with heavy breaths, and she was finally_ feeling_ something that wasn't pressure, or exhaustion or hurt. It was pure lust; a need to connect with Rachel.

Tongues brushed fleetingly against one another, noses bumped awkwardly and at one point, Rachel had to pull back and apologize profusely when she bit down on Quinn's bust lip.

It wasn't perfect, nor did she want it to be. Rachel was nervous, and so was she, if the pounding in her chest was anything to do with it. Shaking hands only just managed to cup Rachel's face and pull her back in, gently caressing those pouting lips like they'd shatter if touched any harder.

Rachel whimpered into the kiss, moving to lean over Quinn, who instantly enveloped her with arms wrapped tight around her waist. Her lip throbbed under Rachel's lips, but she could hardly care because Rachel's hand was moving up her stomach and resting over the thin tee that covered her torso.

The hand felt hot, almost searing hot, and the touch of Rachel's fingertips against drumming against her collarbone made the blonde squirm. The almost insesent drum of Rachel's finger made her felt against the bed, and Rachel followed, pushing herself closer to blonde, instinctively trying to get closer.

Legs touched legs, hips touched hips, breasts touched breasts, lips fought for dominance against one another, moans and whimpers echoed throughout the empty room as homage to what they were feeling.

Then Rachel's hips were grinding down against hers, softly, almost as if the brunette was unaware she was doing it, but the way Quinn's hands slid down Rachel's back, fingers mapping, before finally coming to a stop on Rachel's backside, made the singer finally realize what she was doing.

She pulled back slightly, lips parted and swollen as she sucked in breathe her body desperately needed. She watched with hazy eyes as Quinn looked up at her, hair strewn across her pillow, bottom lip an angry red, pupils blown, hands ever so slightly squeezing the flesh of her ass

She felt. My God did she feel it.

Her hips dipped to push against Quinn's, and she watched with avid eyes at Quinn's reaction. The blonde arched her back, jaw dropping just that little bit more, eyes fighting to stay open.

"Rach…" Quinn's voice, so husky and wanton made Rachel shiver, and before she could even sit up to remove her own pyjama top, which was suddenly constrictive, Quinn was pulling her down and crushing their lips together once more.

She swallowed the groan of pain and pleasure from Quinn, and instinctively she pulled back, pressing soft kisses to the abused flesh. The blonde laid there and took it, whining whenever Rachel's tongue darted out to flick against the sore skin.

Quinn sat up, Rachel following, settling to sit on her lap, the heels of her feet digging into her backside as she watched the blonde inspect her. Then shyly, so shyly in fact that it made Rachel's heart soar, Quinn whispered, "I-I don't know what I'm doing…"

Rachel shook her head and pressed a kiss to Quinn's forehead, then mumbling against the skin, "I don't either…so let's learn together, okay?"

"Okay…" Quinn whispered, watching Rachel pull back and settle back to sit once more, "Okay." And then she was pulling off her shirt, taking care not to rip the clothing over her face and hurt her lip. Shyly, she let the shirt drop with a soft thud to the carpeted floor, and she allowed Rachel to take her first look.

Rachel was silent, and it killed her, just to sit there and let her girlfriend check out her body. Sure, she still had her bra on…but she felt so exposed. There was no alcohol to numb the embarrassment, there was no nimble attempts to 'pray' when things go out of hand. She was at the mercy of her girlfriend, who still stared.

"McFly…"

Quinn slowly looked up and was caught up in a flurry of movement. Rachel struggled above her, and eventually, came free from the confines of her top. Rachel wore no bra, but didn't seem to care as she locked eyes with Quinn.

She took the red blush that spread across the blonde's cheeks as a good sign, and instead of trying to cover herself up, she took Quinn's hands in hers and held them, "Do you want to touch me…?"

She watched as the blonde's throat bobbed, "Y-Yeah…"

With a smile, Rachel moved the blonde hands, letting them rest against her bared breasts, those perfectly rounded breasts with the dusky nipples that made Quinn's mouth go dry. And Jesus, she felt them stiffen beneath her palms, and a groan ripped from her throat before she could even think about stopping it.

Then Rachel's hands were gone, back down onto her lap, and Quinn was still cupping Rachel's breasts, "What…do I do…?" The blonde asked, licking her lips, "I d-don't know what-,"

"Do what you like…but to me, I guess? That's how it works, right?"

"But I-I've never really…" Quinn swallowed again, "I totally should have googled this."

"I did," Rachel admitted with a sly smile, "But it pales in comparison to the real thing, right?" She arched her back slightly into Quinn's hands, "Just touch me, McFly."

Not knowing what to do, Quinn tapped into what she liked, and when Rachel keened when she paid special attention to her nipples, the blonde felt as if she'd found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. With nimble fingers she gently twisted the straining nipples, ran her thumbs over them to calm Rachel as she whined for more.

The familiar throb between Quinn's legs that had plagued her since being with Rachel came back full force, and the slickness that she felt between her thighs made her hips move up to brush against Rachel's.

"Q-Quinn…" Rachel gasped, placing her hands over the blonde's, "Harder."

Quinn leaned forward and dropped a kiss to Rachel's clavicle, "Are you sure?" She asked against the skin before sucking it into her mouth, biting and sucking, biting and sucking until Rachel was shaking against her mouth.

"Yes."

It was all she needed, she pinched harder, twisted harder, but not to hard it hurt, so hard that it teased the brunette into submission. Rachel shook above her, and when Quinn pulled back to check on the handwork of her hickey, she smirked; the usual tan skin was beet red and purple.

"Oh God, n-no more…" Rachel whispered, pushing Quinn's hands away. Quinn frowned at the loss of contact, but from the raggedness of Rachel's breath, she knew she'd been doing it right.

Her body hummed with anticipation as the brunette slowly climbed off her lap and stood beside her next to the bed. As Rachel's hands went to hem of her sleep shorts, Quinn's went behind her back to unhook the annoyance that was her bra. The emerald green bra fell from her chest, straps falling down to rest against her upper arms.

She held it there and watched as Rachel watched her, the singer finally pushing down on the waistband of her shorts.

As the shorts hit the floor, so did Quinn's bra; the exposure was terrifying, but so delicious, and when Rachel licked her lips and climbed back over Quinn, effectively pushing her down into the mattress, the only thing on her mind was that she needed Rachel to touch her. Now.

"Touch me,"

"I want to touch you all over," Rachel replied, eyes skimming over every inch of Quinn's exposed torso, "It's so cliché, but…you're so beautiful."

"I pale in comparison to you, Rach."

Tan cheeks flushed, and Rachel skimmed the pads of her fingertips over Quinn's abs. They shivered beneath the touch, and Rachel shut her eyes, immersing herself in the feel of Quinn's skin against hers, memorizing the way each muscle twitched beneath her touch, the sound of Quinn's voice when she begged for more contact.

Her eyes snapped open when she felt Quinn's thumb brush over her lips, "What do you need…?" She asked, gently against the pad of her thumb before pressing a gentle kiss to it. The hand fell, limp back onto the bed, and shyly Quinn responded.

"Y-your mouth. I need your mouth on me, Rach."

Then she knew Quinn was comfortable; comfortable with what they were doing, the way she just let Rachel absorb her semi-nakedness, let Rachel touch her, caress her.

"Tell me where, Quinn." Because honestly, she could go to town on Quinn's abs, and she did, until she felt Quinn's hand thread through her hair, and ever so gently pull her up, up, up until she face to face with heavy breasts and straining pink nipples.

"I-," Quinn cleared her throat and glanced away, "M-my breasts, use your mouth there."

"Don't be nervous, okay?" Rachel whispered, leaning down on both her hands that pressed firmly into the mattress at either side of Quinn's body, "It's only me."

"That's why I'm nervous," Quinn chuckled lightly, "What if I suck? What if I can't-,"

"You can." Rachel pressed a kiss between Quinn's breasts, licking a drop of sweat that sat there waiting to be taken, "You are."

Quinn opened her mouth, hoping for clarifcation, but all she got was pleasure. Rachel's hot mouth enveloping her nipple, and she felt like melting into the bed and never moving again. The way Rachel's tongue danced across her nipple, caressing it, massaging it, sucking on it, had her travelling through the waves of euphoria.

Her body ached, and the throb between her legs shot up and down her body like a ping pong ball. It shot to her toes, up between her legs, up her body, before finally and mercifully being released by a groan from Quinn's swollen lips.

"Oh Jesus Christ," She whispered, head tilted back against the pillow, hands fisting the sheets as if they were her only lifeline.

Then Rachel's tongue was slowly making its path across, mapping each inch of skin before flicking out to almost taste Quinn's other nipple. She strained, her back arched, and Rachel smiled, dropping to her elbows and taking it fully into her mouth.

Quinn's legs parted instinctively, the material of her jeans doing nothing but being a nuisance as the heat of Rachel's body enveloped her. She needed the jeans off, she needed to feel Rachel, fuck, Rachel needed to take her panties off.

"Wait…" Quinn gasped as Rachel finally pulled back, looking at her with a furrowed brow.

"Are you okay? D-Did I bite you or something?"

"No…" Quinn sat up, "My God you perfect, but…" Quinn leaned forward, the urge to take Rachel's lips against hers too much to bare. The singer enveloped Quinn in her arms, allowing the blonde to go to town, nipping and biting on her lower lip, almost trying to mark her.

"But?" She mumbled against Quinn's lips when she finally pulled back, "Tell me, McFly."

"My Jeans, they need to be off." Quinn's hands moved to the button of her jeans, and Rachel watched, but when Quinn made no move to pop the button she frowned, "And your panties need to be off too."

Rachel nodded, "You can take them off…" She added with a shy smile, "If you want."

Quinn nodded almost instantly, "Y-yeah, I do." Then the button her jeans were popped and the zip was being pulled down agonizingly slow. Rachel moved, but only to give room for Quinn to push down and kick off her jeans, leaving herself in matching emerald green panties.

"Wow," Rachel gasped, eyes zeroing in on the growing wet patch between her girlfriend's legs, "Quinn…"

"Is that okay…?"

Okay? My God, it was more than okay, and the kiss that Rachel gave Quinn was testament to that.

"You do the same to me, Quinn. You always do; every second of everyday."

"I do…?" She whispered against soft lips.

Rachel nodded and pulled back, "I'll show you just how much." And the white cotton panties were coming down, and Quinn was propped up on her elbows, just watching with lust ridden eyes as the panties finally joined the rest of their clothes beside the bed.

Trimmed curls glistened in the shine of the sun through cracked blinds, lips red, wet and swollen, begging to be touched and Quinn swallowed in reflex when Rachel's hand moved to envelope her own.

"You do this to me…all the time, Quinn." And her hand was there, the pads of two fingers brushing between Rachel's folds, and it was so hot…and wet…and perfect, and Quinn felt like crying because she knew Rachel was telling the truth. She did that, she made her girlfriend feel like that.

Rachel Berry who only thought about Broadway, and being famous, and singing songs, and maintaining perfect grades, stopped and felt so overbearingly hot for her girlfriend that she got wet. ISoaked./I

The brunette bit down on her bottom lip as she moved Quinn's fingers against herself, making sure to avoid her clit. If Quinn touched her there right now, she'd explode, and she really didn't want this to end right now. She wanted Quinn to take her time, to memorize her body.

"Rach…" Quinn's voice was husky, "I need you to touch me too, okay?"

"'Kay." She nodded, fingertip grazing the skin just above the waistband of Quinn's panties, "Do you want me-,"

"Yes, please." Quinn replied quickly, eyes still trained on brown ones, fingers still teasing the intricate folds of Rachel.

Rachel pulled down the panties, taking her time, watching Quinn's ever expression, and it wasn't until the panties were finally pulled free and dropped to the floor that she let her eyes drop to between Quinn's legs.

She moved to lay beside her girlfriend, on there sides, facing each other, watching each other.

Quinn was perfect, trimmed blonde curls, sodden with wetness, the very same wetness that coated the insides of her thighs. She had done that to her, and it had never felt so good.

"Can I?" Rachel asked hesitantly, hand resting on Quinn's hips.

At the blonde's nod, she brushed the backs of her fingers down between her legs, parting the thighs, fingertips skimming across soaked skin, "Quinn…" She whined when she felt the blonde's fingertip press intimately against her entrance.

Oh God, this was really happening.

She returned the favour, circling the tip of her middle finger against Quinn's soaked entrance. She dipped in, but only slightly, and she did it over and over again, because every time she did, a delicious moan ripped free from Quinn's throat, and the two fingers between her own legs became incessant in their teasing.

Quinn shuffled closer to her girlfriend, chest to chest, hip to hip, only the movement of their arms between them. The blonde's lips pressed gently against tan skin, and with a moan that turned into a whine when Rachel's fingers circled her clit and then disappeared, she whispered, "I feel like I'm dying."

She felt Rachel smile against her temple, "A good," A gasp, "Death, I hope."

She squeezed her eyes shut and immersed herself in the warm electric shocks that shot through her body whenever Rachel circled, pressed down, nudged her clit, "The best," She only just managed to groan out.

"Don't you dare stop," Rachel warned, and she only just noticed that her own hand had stopped between Rachel's legs. It killed her to move her arm, feeling so deliciously fulfilled whenever Rachel's fingers hit a particular spot against her, but then her fingers were sliding with more ease against wet folds, and she knew why she never wanted to stop.

"I-I can't," Quinn whispered desperately, sinking her teeth into Rachel's shoulder. She felt her girlfriend stiffen, and for a second she thought she might be biting a bit too hard, but when her hips ground down against those magical fingers, all coherent thought flew out of the window.

The fingers nudged so perfectly against her, and at the slowly gaining rapid pace of Quinn's hips, those fingers joined in on the motion, and soon enough, Quinn was whining, and groaning into the flesh in her mouth. Her body was screaming, and the coiling in her stomach made her feel as if her body would shatter.

And it did.

She choked out a sob when she finally came, all that pent up frustration from weeks of taking care of herself finally seeping from her body as if they never existed. The white hot flash behind her eyes enveloped her, held her, and that's when she realized, in the haze of her orgasm, Rachel's arms had moved, and awkwardly she was holding her.

"I couldn't…" Quinn licked her dry lips, "I couldn't hold it in any longer."

"I know baby, I know…" Then Rachel was falling onto her back, pulling Quinn along with her, and the blonde settled herself between the brunette's legs, "Now do you mind…?" Rachel asked with half a smirk, "I was well on my way before you decided to get greedy."

"Sorry," Quinn chuckled, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Rachel's lips. Her hand skimmed down the expanse of Rachel's stomach, and only when it settled between her legs, Rachel's hand shot down and grabbed it. "Is something wrong?" She asked, worryingly.

"No! I just…" Rachel licked her lips, "Would you mind…using your mouth? It's okay if you don't want to it's just…" All but embarrassing herself, Rachel's head slammed back against the pillow, "I sound like a complete mor-, oh God!"

Quinn's mouth was on her, right there, between her legs. It was so perfect, the way those pouted lips, sans the rough graze of a healing bottom lip, brushed so beautiful against her, and the way a hesitant tongue flicked out and brushed her clit.

She keened and arched her back, all but forcing her body off the mattress. Quinn's hands circled her thighs, hands pressing down on her stomach to keep her pinned. Moans of satisfaction, muffled by the most intimate part of Rachel between her legs, set the brunette above her off once more.

Hips riding up to grind against those lips, that tongue, she grasped Quinn's hair in both hands, grip tightening that knuckles went white. She all but rode the blonde's face, eyes locked on Quinn's as they watched her in the throes of pleasure.

They were lost in one another, and only when the scream of Quinn's name from her lips and the searing hot pressure from between her thighs exploded, did she only close her eyes and bask in the glow, her hips still grinding against lips, that only pressed soothing kisses to Rachel's twitching clit.

"M-My God…" Rachel gasped, moments after regaining her breath, "You're amazing."

Quinn blushed and kissed up Rachel's body, paying special attention to a tiny scar that marred perfect tan skin. The singer watched with hooded eyes as her girlfriend took her time kissing that one part, and made a mental note to tell Quinn how she got such a scar.

Dance class when she was eleven, she became acquainted with a ballet pole that was less than safe.

Then Quinn's lips were moving, pressing a goodbye kiss to her scar, before moving up to rest against her lips.

Then things just got embarrassing, they looked at one another, Quinn with her bust lip and blown pupils, Rachel with her JBFH hair and dusky cheeks. It was going to happen, they were finally going to-

"Are we going to…?" Rachel asked hesitantly, looking up at her girlfriend, who just looked straight back, "It's a big step."

Quinn chewed on her lower lip, surprised by how it didn't hurt anymore. It was a big step; she wasn't a virgin, but that change the fact that Rachel wasn't. She'd never had sex with someone, never had the precious thing taken.

So she asked, "Are you sure?" Because it was something she couldn't change. Sure, she could go back in time and change it, but really…did she want to? This was a big step for her, and nothing made her happier than the thought of being Rachel's first. Her only first. No re-runs, no second chances. Just for one moment, she wanted to be the Quinn Fabray from a month ago, the one that knew nothing of time travel, or the Philosopher's stone, or Homunculus.

"I've never been more sure in my life, McFly." Rachel propped herself up and brushed a lock of Quinn's fallen hair behind her ear, "I trust you with my life."

"If this happens we can't take it back."

The brunette just smiled, lay back on the bed and pulled Quinn back down along with her, "I want you to take my virginity, Quinn. No one else. Only you."

And she said it with such certainty, that Quinn didn't know she was crying until Rachel was kissing those tears away, "Happy tears?" She heard mumbled, distantly against her cheeks.

"Happy tears." She agreed, moving to lay beside her girlfriend. "I'll go slow, okay? If you want me stop, just say."

"Okay," Rachel whispered, all of a sudden terrified. She heard the horror stories, especially from the girls in Glee Club. She'd heard Santana say it hurt like a red hot poker being stabbed into your lower back, Tina had said she'd ached for days afterward and Brittany all but said it had crippled her.

And now Quinn's fingers were poised, ready to enter, and she took one mighty gulp of air for reassurance when she locked eyes with Quinn. She nodded, and the blonde pressed her lips against hers; they kissed, lips and tongues mashing together like their life depended on it, Rachel's fingers digging into Quinn's back when she finally get those fingers push inside her.

Rachel let out a loud whine, her nails digging instinctively into Quinn's back. The blonde stopped, but her lips didn't, she swallowed each whine of pain, all but locking it away as if it was a distant memory.

Then the singer's nails pulled back from their torturous digs on the blonde's back, and Quinn continued to slide in her fingers all the way in. She bit back a groan when Rachel's nails dug deeper into the skin of her back, and she swallowed each groan of discomfort her girlfriend give until finally, Ifinally/I she was in.

She'd done it; she'd taken her girlfriend's virginity. She kissed away the tears from Rachel's cheeks, and only then pressed her forehead against Rachel's, waiting patiently as Rachel adjusted to her fingers.

It took minutes, but it only felt like seconds until Rachel was finally giving her a nod, and wrapping her arms around her neck, holding her in place, forehead to forehead, nose to nose, lips to lips, "Go…"

So she did, hesitantly moving her fingers in and out of her girlfriend, luxuriating in the feeling of Rachel's wetness around her fingers. Rachel's hips rose to meet every stroke, and only when Rachel was moaning, hips moving incessantly against Quinn's probing fingers, did she begin scissoring her fingers, twisting them, curling them, touching and caressing each wall of her girlfriend.

"Oh…" Rachel arched her back, squeezed her eyes shut, and with a breathless whisper, "Fuck…"

Quinn was set alight, and another finger pushed into Rachel. Her girlfriend was sopping, and welcomed the additional finger with no problem. Quinn was in heaven, feeling Rachel's walls flutter against her fingertips, squeezing her fingers, silently begging for more.

"Q-Quinn." Eyes still locked on one another, she watched as Rachel's jaw dropped, "I'm…so close…so so close."

Unable to say anything, Quinn nodded, feeling her own burn between her legs. She thrust harder, and Rachel's mouth opened in a silent scream, legs widening as Quinn began to pump faster and harder.

Her forearm burned, her body bursting with heat, and as she watched Rachel's hips meet each and everyone of her thrusts, she felt the beginnings of her own orgasm. Then it crashed down on her, her hips thrust forward and came into contact with Rachel's moving hips, and she was gone.

Fingers moved incessantly inside Rachel, and the feel and sound of her girlfriend coming apart beside her set off a chain reaction. Rachel arched her back, stilled her hips, shot both her hands down and held Quinn's fingers there as she came apart around them.

Quinn felt it, in the midst of her own climax, the feeling of Rachel squeezing her fingers so tightly that she was surprised she could still feel them, the hot slickness that became that much more hot trickled down her fingers and into the open palm of her hand.

And they were panting each others names as they came down, almost chanting each other's names in homage.

Rachel collapsed against the bed, still holding Quinn's finger inside her. Quinn dropped a kiss to her shoulder, and Rachel smiled when she felt Quinn smile against her skin, "Not that I mind being inside you, but could I please have my fingers back?"

The singer chuckled, and after a beat, moved her hands away, "Thank you," She heard muttered beside her, and she gasped when those fingers pulled out of her slowly, softly, gently. "You'll…probably be sore in the morning."

"It was worth it," Rachel smiled, turning on her side to face her girlfriend, "I'm glad you were the one to do it, McFly."

"I'm glad I was too."

They kissed gently, and it was perfect, until Rachel reared her head back and gave one almighty yawn, "Uhm…is it natural to feel this tired after sex?"

"If it was good sex, yeah." Quinn replied with a chuckle, "I'm just that good."

"Don't let it go to your head, McFly." She all but shoved Quinn down onto the bed by her shoulder and snuggled up beside her, "It's so unbecoming."

Quinn snorted, "You sound like my grandmother."

"Oh, so you just did dirty, wicked things with your grandmother…?"

There was no reply, and Rachel was about to raise her head to check that Quinn was still alive when she heard, "Never again. Never say that again. You're going to scar me for life."

Rachel giggled, "I'm sorry, McFly. Never again."

"Good."

Lulled by Quinn's heartbeat, Rachel felt her eyes slowly droop, and the overbearing urge to fall asleep overcame her. "Quinn…? I uhm…" With the only ounce of strength she had left, she looked up and watched Quinn, who had finally fallen asleep.

With a smile, she leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Quinn's bottom lip, "It can wait another day."

* * *

><p>It could have been a dream; how perfect Rachel and hers first time was. It was like something out a movie, sure there had been blunders, shyness that almost made them run from the room - but was a first time ever meant to be so perfectly perfect? It was all about exploring, and that's just what they had done.<p>

Rachel had given herself to Quinn, and in return, Quinn finally let herself feel that one thing that she hadn't felt since she held baby Beth in her arms.

**"Good morning, lover."**

With a scream, Quinn rolled and the back of her head against the bedside table, "Ow, motherfucking shit…fuck!"

**"What a lovely way to wake up, don't you think?"**

Quinn opened her eyes, confident the stinging had surpassed to lock eyes with shining red. "You? What are you doing here?" Then she looked around, and something felt wrong, why did she feel like she was alone in this house? "Where's Rachel?"

**"Well, the two Berry men are out at work I believe? They came home late last night and left early this morning. But you were comatose from your night of passion; I doubt highly you would have heard them."**

"Where. Is. Rachel?"

Homunculus smiled and jumped from the bed, b"She's been removed from the picture."

"…what?" She felt sick.

**"The killer, _your killer_, saw fit to remove Rachel from the picture. I hardly blame him, after all, she was becoming a bit of a nuisance. You were hardly out of her sight, it was hard for him to try and make an attempt on your life with her following you around like a lost dog."**

Quinn sat up, covers falling to her naked waist, "Where is she?" Homunculus made no reply, and in a fit of rage, she jumped from the bed and pinned him against the nearby wall, "Tell me!"

**"I didn't come here to be accosted by an angry, naked blonde, Quinn."** Gently, he pushed Quinn back and dusted imaginary dust from his sleeves, **"I know where Rachel is, but in telling you, you will meet your killer."**

"Then tell me. I'll deal with them both. I'll sort him out and then get my girlfriend back!"

Homunculus shook his head, pushing Quinn back so she sat on the edge of the bed, **"It isn't that simple, Quinn. There are choices to be made. Do you remember the conversation we had about making difficult decisions? Being at the fork in the road?"**

Quinn nodded.

**"Now is that time. Your at the fork in the road, Quinn. And you have one of two paths you can travel down."**

The blonde felt her heart clench, "Tell me."

**"The killer is holding your girlfriend captive, and he's not hesitant to kill her if anything turns…_difficult.._"** Homunculus took a seat beside Quinn, clasping his hands on his lap, **"If you go after her, you will be killed. But if you don't, you'll live."**

"What?" Quinn frowned, "So you just want me to leave her to save my own hide?"

**"It's not up to me. Rachel is being used as bait. Either way, he won't hesitate to kill either one of you."**

"Either way…I'm doomed."

Quinn clenched her fists, "What do I do…?"

**"Two choices, Quinn. First choice, let Rachel die and survive; let the killer come to you and use that to your advantage to end it. Second choice, save Rachel, fall into the killers trap and be killed. Which will it be?"**

Quinn bit down hard on her bottom lip, welcoming the taste of warm copper into her mouth.

When everything was so perfect it had to be snatched away.

Now what could she do?

Which choice did she take? Lose Rachel or die?

* * *

><p><strong>Now you guys make the decision. So in your comments, tell me either choice one or two. Remember, you have the power now, you decide how the story ends.<strong>  
><strong>Option one: Lose Rachel and Quinn lives.<strong>  
><strong>Option two: Rachel lives and Quinn dies.<strong>


	17. Chapter 16

They stare at one another, enveloped in the silence of the room. Two choices that could either destroy her or realize her will. In retrospect, it's a hard decision, because honestly, who would want to die at seventeen? But she's lived a thousand lives since the whole ordeal began, so she had no issue with just saying;

"I'm going to find Rachel, and I'm going to save her." She says it with such determination that even Homunculus smiles, his red eyes twinkling in the morning sun. "Tell me where she is. Take me to her."

He sits down beside her, **"Are you sure?"** He asks, because it's a life determining choice, and any person with a soul would ask.

"Yes. Now tell me where she is."

She gets dressed, and he watches, which isn't as odd as she thought it would be. He's quiet while she raids Rachel's drawers, and luckily, she comes across a casual looking sweater (sans the argyle creature on the front) and funnily enough, some rather stylish jeans.

**"She's in 1556. She's being held in the Alchemist's house."**

Quinn frowns before pulling on the sweater, fluffing out her hair as she turns around to face the pale being sat on the bed she and Rachel had made love in only hours before, "Why there? What's the significance?"

Homunculus chuckles, **"Your killer finds it oddly symbolic. A house that creates life, and also death."**

A shudder rips through Quinn's body before she can even stop it. What does he even mean? Create life? Like the day that Mary was finally born into the world, along with Samuel years before? And the death...? When Cecil and Elizabeth just disappeared off the map without another glance?

"Take me there."

He smiles, **"Take yourself. You have the powers after all."**

But she's terrified, because she knows that when she goes back in time, she won't be coming back. If she's lucky enough to save Rachel's life, the brunette that she adores and loves will come back, but she won't. She'll just die; no other chances, no other opportunities. It's just game over, end of story.

"Come with me...?" She asks in a meek voice. Homunculus sighs gently at her, so she just frowns, "You're an asshole, almost letting me die that time when I had a panic attack but...it'll be nice to just have someone there who...kind of cares."

**"Hm."** He stands and pats his hands gently down on her shoulders, **"Let's go then, shall we?"** Before she even has the chance to answer, she feels that familiar feeling rip through her; electricity makes the hairs on her arms stand up on end, her body pumps up with much needed adrenaline, and she feels light headed...because she knows this is the last time she'll ever see Rachel's room again.

–

They're in a small alleyway, just one street away from the Alchemist's house. **"Your lover is in the house right now, along with your killer."** He pauses, and Quinn swears it's for dramatic fucking effect, **"Are you sure you wish to proceed...?"**

Well no, she's not sure, because she doesn't want to die. But she just sucks in a lungful of air, stares him right in the eye and nods, because if she opens her mouth, she swears she'll cry.

**"You truly are a wonder, Quinn Fabray."** And he hugs her, **"Good luck."**

She swallows against his chest, because even though it's meant to be calming, and supportive, she just feels sick and violated. "Thanks." She takes one last look at him; those red eyes that shone brightly, those dark hideous pants and long sleeved top, and those almost military standard boots before backing up and walking away.

Homunculus watches her with narrowed eyes as she turns the corner for the house that her fate resides in, and with a gentle chuckle, he shakes his head, **"Stupid girl."**

–

The house is in ruin when she arrives. Parts of it are still stood, which is miraculous, but there's still what looks like smoke or steam bellowing out from the stop. The door is unhinged, and half swinging in the wind, windows are shattered and cover the floor in almost a mosaic pattern. It's oddly artistic, but the building before her is the stark opposite.

"Fuck." She whispers, almost to herself, before pushing open the door slightly, "Elizabeth?" She careful steps over some rubble, but trips anyway when she finally gets inside, "Dr. Russell?" She coughs at the smoke; it's acrid and it makes her lungs seize up. She feels like she can't breath, so she puts her forearm to her mouth, trying to at least filter out the dirt and soot, "Samuel?" She heaves out, trying to manoeuvre.

There's no stairs anymore. And as she looks up, it looks like the top level of the house is completely obliterated. "Oh my god..." She feels like she wants to be sick, because she knows that no one can survive that sort of blast. But then she remembers, Samuel was around until he was eleven, and Mary was still alive and kicking at the young age of twenty-four. The kids are alive; at least it's good news in some retrospect.

The living room is trashed; furnishings are tossed over as if they were litter, and small trinkets that once belonged to the family as air looms were either smashed or completely shattered. It's a terrible sight to behold, and she's about to turn when something catches her in the corner of her eye.

Slowly, almost as if she walked any faster the house would crumble around her, she walks toward to object, crouches down and picks it up between her thumb and index finger. It's a shoe, and Quinn knows it well; one of Elizabeth's shoes.

"Fuck..." She drops it and kicks herself back against the floorboards, desperately trying to get away from an inanimate object that just reeks of death, "Oh God, Elizabeth..." Quinn manages to stagger to her feet, and only after catching herself on a crumbling door frame, does she make it out into the main hall.

The smoke is getting thicker, and the urge to just leave and take a lungful of fresh air is so overwhelming that she almost does it. But she knows that Rachel is in here, somewhere, just waiting to be found. So she goes into the one place left; the one place where the explosion probably originated from.

It's awkward, because even though most of the house is in chaotic ruin, the basement is oddly intact. Of course, the brickwork of the walls is crumbling and falling apart, and maybe the concrete floor is cut clean in half, jagged and unsafe, but it's oddly...together. It's eerie, and as she descends the crumbling stone steps, she feels an impending sense of doom just resonate through her stomach.

She wants to leave. She wants to throw up. Fuck, she just wants to get Rachel and get the hell away, back to 2011, back to her old life, with that singing star that is Rachel Berry. But she keeps descending, each footstep feeling like a lead weight, locking her into a fate that she wishes she didn't have.

"Rach...?" She asks, when she _finally_ hits the bottom step. She hears nothing, just the crumbling of stones and the wind sounding oddly hallow against the structure. It sets her teeth on edge, and she swears she's grinding them as she walks further into the basement.

She's about to call out again, her mouth has just opened, mouth ready to let out a large shout when she hears it. It's faint, so faint in fact that she could of imagined it. But it's there. It's a shuffling, it sounds like feet, almost like they're sliding against the concrete floor.

It's so unnerving in fact that she turns and jumps back, because she feels as if her killer is going to suddenly come out from the walls and stick an axe in her head or something to that degree. But there's no one there, not even through the thick smoke, there's no one there.

"I'm going crazy," She whispers, and then coughs, the smoke finding it's way deep into her lungs, "Rachel!"

Then she hears it. It's different this time, although the sound of sliding feet against concrete, there's also a muffle. A tiny little voice that can only just be heard. She moves toward it, wafting the smoke away from her face, hoping in some way that it would help her locate the source.

She almost face plants the floor when her knees impact the metal cauldron that Dr. Russell spent all his time around, but she manages to hold herself up, barely. Her fingers touch a sticky like substance within it, stuck to the sides of the large basin. It's unlike anything she's felt before, it's almost like super glue, but it's easy to manipulate between her fingers. She just wipes it off on her jeans, feeling as if the slime is somehow going to crawl up her arm.

Quinn's lost the sound. She can't hear it anymore, no matter how she tries. It feels as if her mind is pulling tricks on her; making her believe something is there when it's really not. She grinds her teeth again, feeling her whole body shake when she finally hears that sound again. Sliding, muffles, then a muffled scream. A scream she knows.

"Rachel?" She bolts across the room, desperately trying to find the source of the sound, when eventually, she gets there. Right in the corner of the room, surrounded by rubble, covered in a thick layer of dust, is a bound and gagged Rachel Berry, looking up at her through squinted eyes through the smoke. "Holy crap!"

But as she moves forward to unite her girlfriend, Rachel is trying to shuffle away, shaking her head from side to side, eyes now open wide as she stares at Quinn. She's terrified.

"Baby, it's okay. I'm here." She wraps her arms around Rachel's body and fiddles around with the thick rope, "It's gonna be okay, I'm here now." Her teeth grit harshly together as she tugs at a tight knot, then all but rips it apart to pull her girlfriend free.

Rachel's arms are free, and all of a sudden, they're rushing up to her mouth and pulling the gag free, "It's a trap!"

"Wha-," She doesn't feel the knock to her head, exactly, but she registers it. And as she slumps to the floor, all she hears is Rachel screaming her name, and a dark shadow hanging over her, before finally everything goes back.

–

It's warm, and there's a slight breeze that brushes past her body when she eventually wakes up. Her whole body aches, and her head feels as if it's on fire; it's uncomfortable, and agonizing as she finally sits up. She can't see straight, and only when she blinks hard a few times does her vision finally go back to normal, barely.

But it's night time, and it's obvious she's lost a day, but almost like she's lost a few years too. She's in the town square, but not the time square from 1556. As she glances around, holding back of her head for support, she finally comes to the conclusion that she's back in 2011.

The clock tower shines brightly in the dark light, and shows the time 12:20am. She's lost a day.

It should be a jubilant feeling; she's back in time that she belongs in, But there's nothing but dread that settles through her. Something is wrong, something is so fucking wrong that she wants to run. She wants to run and never turn back.

"Awake, I see." Her hand slowly drops from her head, and she feels so fucking devastated. How had she never seen the signs? How had she never even noticed? She staggers to her feet, clawing at the floor for balance as he legs wobble from her weight.

And only when she stand up straight, body struggling to keep itself upright, she finally clocks eyes with her killer.

"Oh my God..." Rachel is sat beside him, barely holding herself back from crying because he's got a knife to her throat. Her neck is already red and achingly sore almost as if she's already teased the blade across her tan skin, "You."

He smirks from where he sits beside Rachel on a nearby bench, "Yup, me."

A boy she once saw as a friend.

"I can tell by the look in your eyes you're confused."

A boy she once cared for.

"I would be too..."

A boy she once loved.

"But I told you once before, I might be pretty but I ain't dumb."

Sam Evans.

His eyes are gleaming as he watches her try to process it all, and honestly, it's just so fucking thrilling to see her mouth gape open and then shut again when she can't even get the words out. He'd been waiting for this day, months, almost a year and a half of planning had finally come to fruition. It was happening right in front of him, and it was glorious.

"How..." She clears her throat, eyes gleaming with unshed tears, "How can..."

"How can I be your killer?" He asks, glancing across the knife in his hand, still held against Rachel's throat, "Honestly?" When he looks back, she sees her nod her head hesitantly. "You deserve it, Quinn."

"I..."

"I'll admit, for a little bit, I kind of did fall for you. I mean, when you sang Lucky with me? Helping me to play the guitar? I felt something...but it just de-railed me from what I was really there for."

"Sam..."

"Who wouldn't fall for Quinn Fabray? I mean, look at you. Even as a little boy I had a sweet spot for you."

"I never..." She bites down on her bottom lip, because it all makes sense. All those times when he stood right before her, clear as day as she desperately tried to find her killer just made sense, "Samuel."

"You always were smart, Quinn." He smiles, almost looking like he's about to cry, "I'm just that little boy from 1556."

"I don't understand." She whispers, "Why..." She steps forward, and she makes it a few steps closer, but only when Sam presses the blade closer to Rachel's neck, and hears her squeal in pain, does she stop, "Please. Don't hurt her. She's done nothing to you."

"I know she hasn't." He looks to Rachel, "And I've already apologized, right?" It doesn't look like Rachel is going to do anything, but when he leans forward closer toward her, she cringes, squeezes her eyes shut and nods like her life depends on it.

"Then please, just let her go."

"Oh no." Sam shakes his head, slowly turning his attention back to the blonde before him, "You deserve this, Quinn. You deserve to feel that pain of losing someone."

"What?" She clenches her jaw, infuriated because she doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about, "What are you talking about?"

He frowns and rips himself free from the bench, tugging Rachel violently along with him. He stands behind her, hands clasped to her hips to keep her from escaping, blade tipping dangerously close to her stomach.

"My mother. My father." He says simply, eyes enraged, "You killed them, Quinn!"

No. They were alive the last time she saw them. Elizabeth was filled with such joy, holding Mary in a bundle in her arms, bouncing and singing playfully to the little girl. She seemed to full of life. And Cecil, finally beaming for the first time in what felt like forever, finally felt as if his work was coming to fruition, and he could finally spend time with his family, where he should be.

"Thanks to you, my mother and father died. All thanks to you and that stupid red stone!"

Red stone?

"The Philosopher's stone? I don't...I don't understand how it killed your parents." She feels completely out of her depth. She has no idea what's going on, she doesn't have an escape plan, Rachel is held completely at his mercy. She feels herself falling apart from the inside, along with her thumping heart.

"When you gave it to my dad he used it for the experiment he'd been working on. Everything was fine until you came along, but then you had to swan into our lives and give him that damn stone that killed him and my mom!"

"The explosion..."

"I came home from the market...I'd gone with my sister. My mom wanted us to bond a little more; felt as if there was a gap between the two of us. So I went, and when I came back..." His body shudders, and that knife just gets so much closer to Rachel's stomach when he adjusts his grip, "The house...it was on fire and...there was smoke everywhere..."

"Sam..." She tries to move forward, really she does, but he just holds out the knife and points it right at her.

"Thanks to you and that stupid fucking experiment my parents are gone!"

"Calm down..." She whispers, watching closely as that knife slowly descends again, "How did you get here?"

"You mean how can I travel?" He shrugs, "Easy. I have a PAD."

Her face drops, and it all becomes clear, "Who gave you the PAD?"

"You're asking too many questions!" He screams, "Shut up! You don't have the power here!"

"Okay...okay..." She steps back, eyes flicking to Rachel, who's sobbing heavily in Sam's arms, barely holding herself up as the knife digs into her stomach, "Look, just let Rachel go and we can sort this out, just between the two of us."

He sobers, so quickly it's terrifying, "Oh no, Quinn. It doesn't work like that here." She swallows down the bile that suddenly wants to flood her throat, "I've tried to kill you so many times. I didn't pick you up that day it all began, I didn't run straight into the gymnasium because I knew you'd be stupid enough to get yourself killed by the fire, I even took a damn part time job at Breadstix to poison your food!"

"It was all you."

"Of course it was. But it seems I couldn't kill you, no matter how hard I tried. All I wanted was revenge for what you did, but I couldn't get it! You killed my parents. You ruined the one good thing in my life. So if I can't kill you, I'll destroy you."

"What do you-,"

The knife whips up to Rachel's throat, and the tip of the blade is almost piercing the side of Rachel's neck, "NO!"

Sam's eyes snap from Rachel to Quinn, who watches the two with wide tearful eyes, "If I die..." She swallows heavily, and he narrows his eyes as he regards her. "If I die as recompense for the death of your parents; will you let her go?"

"Quinn no, please!" Rachel begs, trying to shrug out of Sam's hold. She almost does, but his grip remains as strong, but he struggles to keep a hold of her, so as she opens her mouth to scream again, he knocks her square on the head with the butt of his knife.

"Rachel!" Quinn watches as the brunette slumps helplessly to the floor, collapsing into herself. She waits for some sort of movement, but Rachel doesn't move, "You son of a bitch." She says hotly as her eyes land onto Sam's.

"You gave me an offer I can't refuse, Quinn." He steps over Rachel's body, "I wish it hadn't come down to this. Why couldn't you have just stayed away and left my family alone?"

"I didn't know, Sam..._Please._" She begs, "Just let me and Rachel go home. Go back to your own time...we'll...we'll sort this out somehow."

"My parents will never come back no matter how hard I try, Quinn. All your actions solidified what would happen."

"Why kill me then? Knowing that your parents will still be dead?" She backs away as he comes closer, and honestly, she wished she could just pull a baseball bat out of anywhere and knock it clean across his head, but she's terrified, and she loses her footing as she collapses back onto the floor.

"Comfort." He stops at her feet, looking down at her, "Do you know what it feels like to bring up a baby, even when you're still a child yourself? Of course you don't. You had the luxury of giving yours up," He sneers, "I didn't. I had to deal with it. I had to care for Mary, I had to feed her, dress her, work for money just to keep her warm. I was only a kid, Quinn; I was still growing up. You ripped my childhood away from me, you killed my parents, you drove me crazy. All I could think about was you and your smarmy little smile because you thought everything was great before you ended it all. I needed comfort, I needed to know that you weren't smiling again. I needed to know that things were going to be okay again once you were gone."

She swallows through her tears, "And when I'm gone...you'll be happy again?"

He shakes his head, "No..." He moves around her, lowers himself to his knees and grabs her neck, "But it'll be a start."

She feels the blade, sharp and painful against her neck, and she feels the first slice into her skin. And she screams out, but then it's gone; the pain, the sharp digging into her neck. She's engulfed in electric blue light, body tense, eyes wide as she feels herself transported back in time.

She hears Sam howl as she's sucked into the time tunnel.

–

In a void of swirling lights, shooting back and forth against a black backdrop, she doesn't know where to go. She's been here so many times, just sat here, wondering where to go. But now she doesn't. Why did her body force itself to transport? Was it because her life was in danger?

It finally hits her, that a boy she once loved is her killer. A boy that she met, who looked so young and helpless, could turn out to be a killer. She would have thought of it sooner, if it wasn't so abnormal. She lived such a normal life up until this all began. But now, as she thinks back, it was all so obvious.

Sam moving randomly from somewhere across the country. Befriending her almost immediately, making sure he became her boyfriend, giving her a damn promise ring to keep her nearby. What teenage boy in his right mind does that anyway? It's was all so fucking _obvious!_

She looks around, helplessly, because once again, she's stuck; she doesn't know where to go. So she lets out a scream, a long and hard scream that makes her throat ache, and the blood at her neck just seeps out that much faster. It's a delicious ache that she revels in. It means she's alive.

She's alive.

"I can save myself." She heaves in a breath, "I can save Rachel."

So she thinks of a plan that she hopes to fuck is full proof in the safety of a void time tunnel.

–

Lunchtime at McKinley High is always a massive affair; every student rushes as fast as they can to the cafeteria to get a hold of the best food, because everyone has become acquainted at one time or another with the slop that Principal Figgins makes the cooks make. So the hallways are all but bare as she walks through them; thankfully.

She can hear the roar of the students from behind the cafeteria doors as she walks up to them, and when she peers through the tiny glass window, she scans the crowds, looking for her target.

There, sat beside Brittany, is Santana, kissing her girlfriend for all she's worth. It makes her melt inside, because even after everything she's been through, she was able to stop and make sure that her best friend told Brittany how she felt. It just makes her heart leap when she sees Brittany mouth to her, 'I love you' and Santana doesn't even hesitate to say it back.

She rips out the phone from her jeans pocket, and her fingers, shaky from the loss of blood at her neck, manage to tap out a quick and to the point message. Even though the slice to her neck is small, she's still losing blood.

_S, go to Lima Town Square at exactly 12am. Stall him. Don't anger him. Please don't ask questions._

She hears the sound of footsteps behind her, and she panics, because she knows that she's about to bump into herself. So she dives into a janitor's closet and closes to the door slightly, allowing her to see through a tiny gap.

Her past self passes with self-confidence, something she wishes she still had.

Only when her past self disappears into the zoo like cafeteria does she leave the safety of the janitor's closet to peer back through the window. Santana is looking down at her phone, looking confused, but only when her past self sits with her friends, does Santana finally text back.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket. She pulls it out and quickly glances at the screen.

_Okay._

She breaths in a sigh of relief and shuts her eyes.

–

It all makes sense, why she came here, to this time. Rachel is stood at the piano, just about to move toward it, her past self is looking to the floor, eyes squeezed shut almost as if she's trying to forget something painful when she finally appears.

And with tired arms, she wraps them around Rachel's waist, pulls her close and puts her mouth to her ear.

"Q-Quinn…?"

Quinn chuckles gently and presses one of the softest kisses she's ever given to Rachel's neck, "I'll always love you, Rach."

And she leaves before the tears fall down her cheeks because in a way it feels like a goodbye.

–

She hugs Elizabeth as soon as she opens the door to her home, and it's so unbelievably amazing that she bursts into tears as soon as she's in those arms. "Quinn, what's wrong, dear?"

The older woman pulls back with wide fearful eyes, "Are you alright?"

Quinn smiles through her tears and nods, "I'm sorry. I just...It's good to see you."

Elizabeth smiles and brushes Quinn's hair back from her eyes, "It's good to see you too, Quinn." She pulls the blonde in and shuts the door firmly behind her, "Why are you hear in a fit of tears?"

"I uhm..." She wipes her tears away with the sleeve of Rachel's sweater, "I need you to do me a favour, okay?"

The older woman hesitates slightly before she nods, "Okay."

"Would you be able to leave the house? Take Sam and Mary with you too?"

"They were just about to go to market." She glances up the stairs, "I was going to stay home and cook dinner for my husband."

"Please." She begs, voice almost a whisper, "I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

With a sigh, Elizabeth's eyes move up and down Quinn's body, before landing on hazel eyes and holding them. They're full of determination, and a hidden need. "I will go."

With a heavy sigh of relief, Quinn smiles, "Thank you."

When Samuel comes bounding down the stairs with Mary in his arms, she can't help but look away. The memories of a boy she destroyed from the inside out just mocks her, and even when he talks to her, just a simple hello, her eyes remain trained to wall.

Samuel huffs and glances up at his mother, "I'm going to the market, mother."

"I'm joining you, Samuel." He looks shocked, but not adverse to the idea, so he smiles and heads to the door, his mother looking back over her shoulder before leaving.

"It ends." Quinn says when the door slides shut. "It ends now."

She opens the basement door and slams it clean shut behind her.

–

The heat in the basement is obnoxiously hot. It's hard to breath as even glances down the stone steps and into the main work area. Dr. Russell is almost hunched over the cauldron, stirring away, hair wet and pushed back as he works.

But then he pulls back and wipes his hands off on his shirt, then moves over to a red stone that sits gleaming on one of his many desks. Quinn leans forward from her spot instinctively, because the urge to just grab it is that overwhelming.

He shuffles back toward the cauldron, and with a deep, heavy breath, he drops the whole thing in.

Nothing happens. But he looks content. He stirs once more, and after only minutes, the whole concoction is bubbling, almost violently against it's metal confines. But he's calm as can be, all he does is step back, rub his hands together and wait.

He waits so patiently as the liquid continues to bubble, until finally, it spurts up into the air in a violent shot. It holds itself in the air for only seconds before dropping back down into the cauldron. And no only smoke bellows from it; different smoke from when the house was collapsed. It looks like steam, almost.

"Finally." She hears him whisper to himself. He tilts the cauldron slightly, using all his weight to push the liquid out. It sloshes over the side and lands to the floor, running into a nearby drain at his feet. It takes a while, but only seconds from Quinn's standpoint as she stays hidden in the shadows of the upper stairs.

"What's happening...?" She asks herself, narrowing her eyes to try and get a better look through the steam. And then it's there, faint, but then growing stronger as it peers up through the pot.

The steam disperses, melting into the air around them, and she can see it. Him.

**"You are my creator...?"**

Homunculus.

"Yes. Yes I am." Cecil replies strongly.

**"And what am I?"**

"You are an Homunculus. A living being that has been made through the help of a Philosopher's stone."

**"I am human?"** Homunculus asks simply, glancing down at his nude body. It doesn't look like any sort of human body. There's no defining features to show gender, or hair. His skin is chalky white; it almost makes him look sick.

"Well...no. You're a scientific creation. The blood that courses through your veins can cure life threatening diseases!" He sounds so elated, but when Quinn sees the look on Homunculus' face, she knows that the being is anything but elated.

**"I am a creation."** Homunculus pauses and glances away from his own body to pin blood red eyes on his creator, **"You will use me for my blood."**

"Well..." Cecil clears his throat nervously, "You and many others. This is a breakthrough in modern medicine!"

**"I am to be used and thrown away."**

"I..."

**"I am a puppet?"** His voice is so disjointed and cold as he asks the rhetorical question, but then he laughs, and it sends a heavy shiver down Quinn's spine, **"You are the puppet, here."**

The ground begins to shake at her feet, and she grasps at the brickwork for support. Cecil is screaming at Homunculus to stop what he's doing, to stop using a power that hasn't even been tested yet. But the pale being just continues to laugh, eyes still locked on his maker as the house begins to shake violently.

Brickwork falls from the walls, and Quinn barely misses one brick slamming down on her head as she watches the scene below. She has to go. She'll die if she stays here.

She opens her mouth to call out to Cecil, but before she can even call out his name, the Alchemist is rushing forward, slamming his full body weight against the cauldron to try and knock his creation off balance.

But if anything, it enrages Homunculus even more. So with a loud howl, he uses the rest his available energy, knowing it will keep on the line between life and death, and uses it to rip the house apart.

Quinn rips open the basement door and runs as fast as she can toward the front door, she's only just got the door open when the staircase behind her collapses, and with it, the roof, but she's out the door before it manages to fall on top of her.

She gasps for breath, cheek resting on the cobbled floor, eyes shut as she tries to control the heavy beating of her heart. She feels as if she's going to die, and her body feels iso/i weak that she feels as if she just might.

The blood loss is slowing, mercifully, but her whole body shakes, and she feels sick from the blood she's already lost. So when she finally manages to make herself sit up, she stares at the house before her, and sends out a silent prayer to Cecil Russell.

–

She's too much of a coward to watch as Elizabeth returns with her son and daughter in tow. She just hides in the shadows of an alleyway, shutting her eyes tight and trying to block out the ear piercing howling of a wife that had just lost her husband and her home.

Mary shrieks, Samuel cries, and Quinn cries along with them, because she feels just as bad. She could have helped, but she just stayed there, at the top of those fucking steps and let a man die that just wanted to help his community.

She grits her teeth and calms herself, and only when she hears the sound of a nearby police official, does she allow herself to be engulfed in the electric blue light once more.

She will fix this.

–

It's three days earlier. She gets there twenty minutes before her past self does. She's at the bank, the same bank that holds the Philosopher's stone. She has a plan in mind, a plan that she hopes to God will work because she can't think of anything else to do. She just wants to go home, collapse onto her bed with Rachel by her side and sleep.

Rachel.

She's still in 2011, still unconscious, with a raving Sam Evans by her side. She feels horrible for leaving her girlfriend there, but her body had taken control of itself, and if, just for one moment she could have controlled it, she would have dived for Rachel if she could have.

Instead, she settles herself down into her plan. If everything goes the way she's planned, she'll save Cecil and Elizabeth's life. Sam will go back into the time he belongs in and she and Rachel will be safe.

Here's hoping.

The clerk watches her as she walks in, and when she took the time to observe the man when she came here the first time, she just recites the number of the box the stone belongs in and asks if he can retrieve it for Dr. Cecil Russell.

He obliges, almost instantly, because he looks bored rigid.

She only waits a few minutes before he's popping back up from his hatch, paper package under his arm. He opens it for her, and when she grabs the item before he can even see what it is, she offer her thanks and rushes out.

There's no time for manners.

She re-traces her steps the best she can remember them. And when she gets to that familiar plot of land where she had almost died from her panic attack, Homunculus is there, eyes narrowed as she approaches, and at first, she wonders if he knows what is going on, but when he says, b"I take it you found the stone...?"/b

It's digging into her thigh from inside her jeans pocket, and there's no point lying, because it's obvious she has it. She just nods.

**"And now you give it to Dr. Russell, I presume...?"**

His eyes have that silent menace hidden deep inside them, and she mentally kicks herself for not seeing it earlier. He was just using her as a damn puppet in a scheme to be created, to be strong.

"No. I'm going to destroy it." His face drops, "There's no point having a stone in this world that will get people killed."

**"Whatever do you mean?"**

"You know what I mean."

And then he really takes a look at her, eyes wandering up and down her body, **"You're not Quinn from this time, are you?"**

"No." She smirks, "I'm not."

**"Give me the stone, Quinn. No one needs to be hurt because of this."**

"Except Dr. Russell and his wife? And Sam? And Mary?"

**"You know your killer."**

"Damn right I do." She almost growls, "You're not getting this stone, Homunculus. I'm going to make sure that you were never created, that you never destroyed that family, that Sam never had to come after me to get some sort of peace over the loss of his parents."

**"Give me the stone, Quinn!"**

He lunges at her, but he's still weak, and she manages to dodge him quickly, "Go burn in hell."

And she runs. She runs like her life depends on it, and she hears him scream her name behind her, but she just keeps going, running, feet pounding against the cobbled floor as she makes a beeline for the Russell household.

He's still following. She can feel him, he's almost like a bad smell, but she's paranoid, she feels as if he's right behind her, the hair on the back of her neck stands on end, and it almost feels as if he's breathing down her neck.

But he isn't. He isn't there.

But her body feels so sluggish, and all she wants to do is sleep. But she just pictures Rachel being safe, being happy and smiling and kissing her because they're both finally safe. And she finds that power to keep going.

So she runs straight toward Cecil's home, bounds through the door, narrowly avoiding Samuel who is walking from the living room. She barely hears him call out her name, but she offers no reply, because she's already halfway down the basement steps.

Cecil stares at her with wide eyes, "What the hell are you doing?" Because he sees her pull the Philosopher's stone out of her pocket, and for a second he's elated, but then she pulling her arm back and with a well directed throw, throwing it straight into the melting heat of his hearth.

"No! Are you out of your mind?" He screams, all but shoving her out of the way, watching helplessly as the red stone slowly melts into nothingness around the roaring flames. "Do you realize what you just did?" He turns on her, eyes ablaze with fury.

But she just smiles, and lays her head back against the stone bricked wall, "I just saved your life."

–

Cecil sits with his wife in their living room, a pale blonde girl standing before them, almost looking as if she's going to drop.

"Why did you do this?" Cecil asks, holding his wife's hand to stop him from getting up and just shaking the girl into submission. "Tell me."

Elizabeth just shushes him, trying to gently calm him down as her thumb brushes over his calloused knuckles.

"The Homunculus you were going to create would have destroyed your home and killed both your wife and yourself." No point fucking sugar coating it, "He would have become enraged at the fact you only wanted to use him for his blood, and destroyed the house, along with you and your wife in it. Luckily enough, both of your children weren't in."

Elizabeth just stares, "How..." Then she glances at her husband, "Is that true...? Were you going to create a human being?"

But ignores her and simply asks, "How do you know about that?"

"You're going to think I'm crazy if I tell you how I know."

"Believe me, I think you're crazy already," He retorts sarcastically, "Go on."

"I'm from the future." Elizabeth just stares, mouth agape, but Cecil seems oddly calm, "And you know because you've seen it happen...?"

She nods, "Yes, I have."

"I always thought you were different..." Elizabeth whispers, "But...that sort of sorcery could never happen."

"Believe me, I didn't think it could either. Homunculus was the one that gave me a device to travel through time, and after that, he gave me some sort of power to do it without the device."

Cecil sighs, "So he was created." Quinn can't believe what she's hearing; he sounds fucking devastated that his creation can never be made!

"Are you fucking serious right now?" Elizabeth gapes at her, "The being that you created was pure evil and he didn't even think twice about killing you or your wife! He made your children orphans! And you're acting like your fucking devastated that he'll never be made again?"

Cecil shakes his head, "My children were orphans...?"

"Yes, much like now because you're stuck in your basement all the time." Elizabeth just shakes her head slowly, almost silently beginning for Quinn to be quiet, "Do you know how much of your daughter's life you've missed already because you've been stuck down there? You've missed Samuel growing up, missed your wife tending to your children. Are you happy with yourself?"

"I..."

"Are you happy, Elizabeth?"

The older woman stutters, looking between both her husband, and the red in the face girl before her before sighing, "Cecil...I miss you. We're in the same house, but it is as if you're never here."

"Elizabeth..."

"I just want you to spend more time with the children, just for their sake. They need their father."

"I'll try..." He leans in and kisses his wife gently on the forehead, "I really will."

And Quinn smiles, because everything feels alright again, but she's woozy, and she takes deep breaths as she feels her body begin to collapse beneath her. Elizabeth and Cecil are at her side in second, and she barely hears Cecil say, "I'll clean and dress her wound."

–

She wakes up in Cecil's basement. The fire in the hearth is all but embers now, and only the gentle melodic crackling of the wood fills the room. Cecil is sat beside her, placing his work in a makeshift folder. He's packing it all away.

"Are you okay?" He asks, when he finally sees her eyes open.

"Better..." She mumbles groggily. She brings her hand up to her neck and winces.

"It wasn't a deep cut, but you had lost quite a lot of blood. I would take it easy for the next few days or so. Drink plenty of fluids and get plenty of rest."

"Thanks..." She whispers, taking the hand that he offers her as she staggers to her feet. "It's for the best you know," When she notices the crestfallen look on his face, "Homunculus really was evil. He used me to further his own life, and he never even hesitated to end yours."

"I understand, but...all my work." He gestures to the desks that still remained littered with countless pieces of paper, filled with intricate drawings and scribbled writings, "It feels as if it was for nothing."

"Know that in the end, you did create something that you always wanted to. But then again, you've gained your family. You have a baby daughter upstairs, a son that adores you and a wife that loves you. Isn't that all that a man needs...?"

His eyes finally tear away from his work, and he just smiles at her.

–

Elizabeth cries when she leaves, because she knows that Quinn isn't coming back. The blonde haired girl that had been so full of life, would now be disappearing forever. Cecil stands by his blubbering wife as she holds Quinn, just thanking her silently through her tears, and Quinn smiles through it all.

Cecil says goodbye, and shakes her hand, which she takes eagerly, and shakes with a confidence she never thought she had.

And when she's turns to leave, she catches sight of Samuel stood on the top step, holding his baby sister in his arms. She stares at him, because in a way, this is her way of saying goodbye to Sam Evans, the boy she once loved, her best friend, her confidant.

"Goodbye Sam. Take care of yourself."

He smiles lightly and waves, before grabbing his sister's tiny hand, and waving that too.

She can't help but shed a tear when she finally shuts the door behind her.

–

**"You've ruined everything."** She hears, barely, as she passes into an abandoned alleyway to travel back to 2011. There, sat against the wall, is a slumping Homunculus, who looks as if he's barely holding onto life by his fingertips.

"You ruined everything. I wasn't going to have the life of two people on my conscience just so you could live."

He chuckles, lightly, so quietly, **"I guess I underestimated you, Quinn Fabray."**

"Yeah. You really did." She settles down to her knees in front of him, thinking that her eyes are playing tricks on her when a red mist settles around his body. But it's not, it's there, and his skin begins to almost bubble, "I hope you burn in hell, Homunculus."

And he looks up at her, skin drawn, eyes bleary eyed, **"I'll see you there, Quinn Fabray."**

She watches him melt into nothingness with glee.

And just when he's disappeared, she feels her body become engulfed in the same electric blue light that had saved her life more times than she'd like to remember. But this time, it crackles furiously, and she can't help but think that this is the last time this is ever going to happen.

–

2011. Two minutes after midnight. Lima Town Square. The clock tower still shines in the dark night, and she follows it like a beacon of hope toward the square. In the time it takes her to walk, she reflects.

Homunculus is gone. Cecil and Elizabeth Russell are still alive. Sam is back in the time that he belongs in, and Mary is no longer an orphan. It's a glorious feeling, to know that in a journey that she took to save her own life, she saved another four. Cecil and Elizabeth would be able to watch their children grow, and Sam would live his life the way it was intended to be, and Mary would finally know what it was like to finally have parents.

Out of it all, she gained Santana's friendship for life, and in turn, a fantastic relationship between her two best friends that were truly meant to be. She knew that both Brittany and Santana had probably loved each other since Kindergarten, and just seeing them together now, happy, full of joy, and looking forward to the future, made it all worth while.

Her mother loved ever, even though she was as gay as a pair of rainbows, and her sister would be becoming a more permanent fixture in her life for the years to come.

But most of all, she had the love of a girl that would gladly die for her, would gladly sacrifice herself, just so she could take another breath.

And as she round the corner onto the Town Square, and she catches sight of Santana with her arm wrapped around Rachel's shoulder, comforting the girl, she smiles. Because even though Santana likes to think she's big and tough, she's just a softy at heart.

Santana sees her first, and she quickly rips her arm away, before nudging Rachel in the ribs with her elbow.

Rachel looks up, and those shining brown eyes that make her just want to die and live all over again lock on hers. With a beaming smile, Rachel dashes across to Quinn and dives into her open arms, crying softly into her neck, holding her close.

Quinn just kisses the top of her head gently, glancing at Santana who is just smiling so contently, before pulling back and smiling at her girlfriend.

"Did you miss me?"

But Rachel just sobs with relief and collapses back into Quinn's chest, and she just holds her, contently, allowing Rachel to just feel something good for a little while.

But when she hears, "Is it over...?" Quinn just smiles, pulls back, presses a gentle kiss to her girlfriend's lips and says.

"It's over."


End file.
